The Natural Habitat of Haruno Sakura
by Tozette
Summary: College AU. Sakura moves to a new town to attend university and desperately needs to find a cheap room in a share house. Luckily, the Akatsuki need a new housemate. (Or: the one where Itachi is a starving law student, Kakashi is teaching professional ethics and Pein is a hipster barista. Also there's a really scarring incident involving Hidan and a goat.) Violence, sexual themes.
1. Chapter 1

So here's this thing I wrote. I have been resisting the temptation to write a fun, trashy college AU heavily featuring Sakura and the Akatsuki for Naruto for a couple of weeks now, but since I actually dreamed of the bloody thing last night (it was a very strange dream) I decided to just write it.

This installment: Sakura meets a hideously attractive stranger and manages to graduate from high school, academic awards are handed out, university offers are posted, problems arise and slightly dubious plans of cohabitation are hinted at.

* * *

The last day of compulsory school was kind of bittersweet. Nobody brought any books, except the few students still studying for late or deferred exams. Lockers were cleared out, cleaned up and left unlocked and empty for next year's cohort.

Konoha High was pristine, diligently prepared for an audience of parents, alumni and benefactors who would attend today's graduation ceremony.

Haruno Sakura was the class representative, and had therefore been tasked with finding a suitable graduation bouquet for their homeroom teacher. The flowers were huge, fresh-blooming oriental lilies with a deep blush near the stamen, and she was almost hidden behind the huge bunch of them as she carried them to their homeroom classroom, where Mizuki-sensei could "find" them later.

Flowers for a homeroom teacher were something of a tradition for the graduating class. Sakura had her doubts that Mizuki-sensei had much time for flowers, or that any of his students were really very thankful for his "guidance," but she would never have voiced any of them.

The corridors were silent and empty, since most of the students and guests were already listening to the principal's deathly boring graduation address. Sakura hurried even though her vision was obscured by the giant bouquet - she was pretty sure she was up for at least a couple of the academic awards, and it would be very awkward if she missed her opportunity to receive them at the assembly.

A bell rang, signalling the time, and Sakura broke into a trot. She might actually be late -

A door opened about three steps in front of her.

"Gaah!" Sakura and her flowers collided with the man coming out of the doorway. She stumbled sideways, landing on her butt on the floor.

She got to her knees to find that the bouquet was - well, it wasn't _that_ much worse for wear, at least. She, however, was covered in the reddish-brown stamens of the lilies, and her eyes were already beginning to water. Dammit.

The man she'd run into was supporting himself one-handed against the doorframe, but his face showed basically nothing. He looked oddly familiar, Sakura thought, but she couldn't think where she might possibly have seen him - except maybe in a magazine, or on television. He had that look about him, all self-assurance and effortless competence.

He wasn't _dressed_ like a model, really, all monochrome: dark-eyed with a spill of black hair and very pale skin, dressed all in dark, comfortable clothes. He had a necklace that caught the light.

She looked at him in wide-eyed silence for a second. Her neck felt hot.

Uncomfortably hot.

Now would be an excellent time to stop staring.

"I'm so sorry!" she blurted, scrambling to her feet. She tried to dust herself off a little but it was mostly in vain.

"It's fine," he said, leaning down to pick up the flowers. "Are these for your teacher?" His voice was _deep_.

"Ah.. yes," she nodded, taking them from him. "How did you know?"

"My brother studies here. Do you know where the auditorium is?"

"I just need to drop these off, and then I'm going there myself. I can show you, if you don't mind taking a small detour?"

"Not at all," he said. Once he'd recovered from the shock of colliding with a speeding schoolgirl, Sakura found his face difficult to read. He was very closed off, and she'd have to take him at his word.

She smiled. "Great! I - ah, I'm Haruno Sakura."

"Uchiha Itachi," he said.

"Ah... you're Sasuke's brother," she said slowly. That explained why he looked so familiar - his brother looked a lot like him. Uchiha Itachi nodded, but didn't actually comment on the fact.

Sakura frowned behind her bouquet. Uchiha Sasuke was... He was smart, good-looking, and seemed naturally blessed with grace and competence at basically everything he turned his hand to. He was good friends with one of her own good friends, Uzumaki Naruto.

Sakura had had an enormous crush on him a few years back when Naruto had first introduced them, but frequent exposure to his black moods and frankly brutal disregard for the feelings (and sometimes, uh, existence) of others had left those stomach-fluttering feelings in the dust.

Now, at the end of her final year, Sakura got on with him, which made her the envy of basically every other girl in their year, and all manner of deeply misguided underclassmen. She didn't mind his company - he was quiet, at the very least - and she suspected that he didn't entirely despise her, which was really all you could hope for with Sasuke.

Speaking socially, Uchiha Sasuke's most redeeming quality was probably that Naruto liked him so damn much.

Because Uchiha Sasuke on his own was, uh, kind of an asshole.

Not that Sakura would ever say that to his _brother_.

"He's in my class," she commented lamely instead, probably a few seconds later than she should have.

"Is he?" said Uchiha, in a tone that could have been interpreted pretty much any way Sakura cared to. "Interesting."

Sakura was sure it was _not_ interesting. She closed her mouth, feeling her face heat - that was allergies, obviously, from being covered in lily dust, because she wasn't feeling embarrassed just because she had nothing intelligent to say to this strange, exceedingly attractive man.

Allergies.

Yes.

Sakura led the way.

He followed her lead to the classroom, where Sakura left the slightly bruised arrangement on the teacher's desk and wrote 'THANK YOU FOR YOUR HARD WORK, SENSEI,' on the black board in blue chalk.

By the time she was done, her allergies had well and truly set in, and her eyes felt just a little as though somebody had scrubbed them with sandpaper. She swallowed, ignoring the awful feeling. "The auditorium is this way," she murmured.

They made it for the tail-end of the principal's speech and the beginning of the awards, stopping just inside the auditorium doors. All of the graduating cohort were seated in rows by class, but Sakura suspected it would be much more disruptive for her to go and find a seat among them than it would be for her to wait by the door for a suitable opportunity.

Uchiha Itachi seemed to feel similarly, because he, too, paused. She could see him scanning the crowd for his brother.

Spotting Sasuke was always easy, because Naruto was usually next to him. Naruto was loud.

"Itachi-san," Sakura whispered, one hand hovering near his elbow, and pointed toward the blond boy, who was waving his arms about something.

"Ah," said Itachi, nodding when he noticed the scowling boy next to him.

Sasuke's scowl was unreasonably pretty, probably because his whole face was unreasonably pretty. When Sakura scowled, she looked like an extra from a B-grade horror film; when Sasuke scowled, it was a broody moue, petulant and irrefutably cute.

She was just going to ignore that.

The boys weren't quite arguing, Sakura thought, because Sasuke refused to engage at all. Naruto was kind of... having a discussion with himself. He was uncannily accurate in filling in the blanks for Sasuke - internally supplying the insults and bitchy grunts the other boy would have made had he been responding at all - and Sakura knew from experience that the 'conversation' could go on for quite some time.

She kept an eye on them while one recipient descended from the stage, clutching his award certificate, and the principal began announcing the next one.

"...the combination of community service, extra-curricular activities, an unfailing kindness to fellow students and great academic achievement is a difficult one to balance. It is with great pleasure that I now announce the student to receive this year's Senjuu Award for Excellence," said the principal, beaming out at them.

Sakura snorted when Naruto stood up.

Sasuke smacked him over the head. "It's not you," he said flatly.

Naruto looked at him. Sasuke tugged him back down, rolling his eyes.

"Haruno Sa-"

(Naruto stood up.

"It's_ not you_," Sasuke growled, yanking him down again.)

"-kura."

Sakura, covered in the stains of lily stamens, with red-rimmed eyes and a runny nose, blinked from the doorway.

There was a soft murmur through the ranks of assembled students when nobody stepped up.

"Haruno-san?" said Itachi, cutting a sideways glance at her. "Isn't that you?"

Sakura looked at him, blinking her burning eyes sluggishly. It _was_ her.

"Haruno Sakura," repeated the principal impatiently.

"U-un!" she darted up the stairs toward the stage to shake the principal's hand and collect her certificate. "Thank you," she murmured, trying hard to ignore the way people were eyeing her.

"Haruno," said the principal cautiously in a very low voice, "please remember that this is a formal event." He looked at her uniform.

It wasn't the place to defend herself, and the principal didn't really need to know that she'd fallen over and smooshed a bunch of flowers into a guest of the school. "Sorry," she said, ducking her head.

He sniffed, but let it go, and somehow she miraculously made her way down off the stage without tripping up or making more of a spectacle, despite her streaming eyes.

She was lucky in that somebody grabbed her arm and hauled her into a spare seat among the students.

"What happened?" Ino demanded in a whisper, looking at her face in poorly-concealed horror.

"Do you have any antihistamines?" Sakura asked pathetically, sniffling.

"I... No. But Ami's allergic to freaking everything, I bet she does..." Ino frowned, looking around, and then leaned over and tapped a girl several seats down. "Ami," she hissed. "_Ami_."

"_What_?" the girl said back, peering furtively around for any authority figure as she answered.

After a few moments' negotiation, a tiny white pill was procured and Sakura swallowed it dry, clutching her certificate to her chest and listening idly to the hissed bickering of Naruto and Sasuke behind her. (Naruto was bickering, really; Sasuke was grunting occasionally and, as far as Sakura could tell, jamming his elbow into the blond's ribs. Somebody had to, she supposed.)

"...while Konoha High School does prefer to encourage students who engage in a holistic range of activities, sometimes there is a student who excels greatly in one area despite _near crippling deficiencies_ in others," the principal was now saying, a little drily, and Sakura could almost feel his gaze. She swallowed, looking up at the stage again. "So without further ado, I now present the Hiruzen Sarutobi Award for outstanding academic achievement in the face of _near total misanthropy_ to Uchiha Sasuke."

There was a clatter behind her as Naruto stood up.

"That's _not you_," Sasuke growled, smacking him in the face as he clambered over the other boy to get to the aisle.

From where he was leaning quietly against the far wall of the auditorium, Sakura saw Uchiha Itachi clapping politely, his lips curved just a little.

"Oh my god," muttered Ino lowly, following her line of sight, "who is _that_?"

"No idea," said Sakura innocently, content to horde her knowledge. She didn't reflect on her motives too deeply. Besides, Ino was looking at Itachi-san as if she wanted to climb him like a tree; Sakura was practically doing a community service by not giving her an in with him.

It was charity, really.

It didn't take long for Sakura to get swept up in the day itself and to put Uchiha Itachi out of her mind. Even though the ceremony itself wasn't that interesting and her own mother couldn't make it (she was away on a business trip somewhere in the United States), the last day of her high school education felt important. Good. Exciting. Scary.

She looked around at all the people she knew here. They would all go to different places and do different things now, and there wasn't much chance they'd see each other every day. For some of them, that would be a blessing, but for others...

It felt like the end of something good.

And maybe the beginning of something, too.

Sakura wondered if it was normal to feel like she was going to cry.

* * *

Sakura was woken the morning their exam results and university offers came out by the buzz of her phone. It was on the verge of vibrating off her desk. Her room was still dark thanks to her heavy curtains, and she squinted at the bright light of the screen when she fumbled for it.

From: The Great Uzumaki Naruto, King of Ramen  
Timestamp: 9:55 AM  
Message body: SAKURA-CHAN I DIDN'T FAIL EVERYTHING!

From: PIG  
Timestamp: 10:03 AM  
Message body: HELL YES. Kaze-Capital University, here I come!

From: The Great Uzumaki Naruto, King of Ramen  
Timestamp: 10:05 AM  
Message body: Bastard won't tell me his score. BET HE DID WORSE THAN I DID.

From: U. Sasuke  
Timestamp: 10:11 AM  
Message body: I AM A GIANT ASSHasdxxxxxxxxxxxxxvvc

Sakura snorted. Even when her texts were from Sasuke, they were still mostly from Naruto.

She could answer them later - right now, she had to check her own post. There was a letter in the box, addressed to her. She examined it carefully, feeling weird and nervous and just a little bit fluttery.

It was thick. Very thick. That had to be a good thing, right?

Unless it was just filled with information about second-round offers and condolences for her rejection.

Of all her friends, hers was probably one of the most difficult goal to achieve. Senjuu University's medicine course had a fantastic reputation and the clearly-in score for entrance was basically stratospheric.

If she wasn't in the top one per cent of her state, she'd never even be considered.

She didn't open the letter.

It sat on her desk while she tapped the wood with her fingers and stared at it for way too long.

"Oh, just open it," she growled at herself, leaning forward and ripping the paper open.

She stared at it for a moment.

A noise came out of her, this strange croaking sound that she didn't think she'd ever made before.

She had been accepted. But more than that...

Her phone rang. Automatically, she picked it up. "Ne, ne, Sakura-chan, did you get into the thing you wanted?"

Naruto's voice was extremely loud, but Sakura's was louder. She leapt out of her chair. "I GOT THE SCHOLARSHIP!" she shrieked. "NARUTO, I GOT THE SCHOLARSHIP! I'M GOING TO BE A DOCTOR. HELL YES!"

Flushed and panting from the sheer exertion of raising her voice so loud, Sakura flopped back into her seat.

There was a pause.

"Sa... Sakura-chan?" Naruto said uncertainly. "Are you okay?"

"_I'm going to be a doctor_," she said to him, eyes gleaming in the dim light. "I did it! I'M IN."

It seemed to take a second to sink in, and then suddenly there was a wild whoop on the other end of the line, and Naruto was yelling just as loudly as she was.

It was sweet and a little flattering that he was so proud of her.

She beamed.

That was all well and good, but after receiving her offer was, of course, when the real work started. Sakura's scholarship might have covered her tuition, and it supplied her with just barely enough money to buy most of her course materials, but it didn't extend to living expenses.

Studying was over, exams were over and school was finished, so Sakura picked up as many shifts as possible. She would have to move closer to the university if she wanted to study there, and she wanted to have as much of a buffer between herself and abject poverty as possible.

With a lot of begging and laser-accurate puppy eyes directed at her manager, Sakura managed to get shifts five days a week at the call centre where she worked. She'd never worked so many shifts in a week before, usually doing a couple nights a week at most. Adjusting to it was brutal: the work was relentless, endless, unfulfilling and exhausting. She was at a loss as to how to explain why work that was so boring required so much of her mental energy and concentration.

And patience.

People really liked to have somebody to complain to and argue with. She was usually hoarse by Friday evening.

Two weeks in she started dreaming of the company software and endless market research surveys. She had a recurring nightmare in which her statistics of completed survey calls per hour were too low and clients called up to yell at her about them.

Three weeks in she managed to answer her mobile phone with: "Thank you for calling Emmerson Marketing Research, this is Sakura speaking."

She looked at her phone in grave consternation and betrayal while Naruto laughed hysterically on the other end of the line.

The growth of her bank account was terribly slow, and she felt restless and annoyed that she couldn't do better. But it would have to be worth it, because Sakura was going to need all the cash she could get.

When Haruno Mebuki finally - _finally_ - got back from her business trip, she was very proud of her daughter, and for a second everything was awesome and Sakura felt immensely proud of herself.

Then Mebuki told her she was moving to the USA for work and selling their house.

"You won't be able to live here anyway, sweetie," said her mother, frowning gently at her. "You know that. You've been looking at share houses for weeks," she pointed out.

She looked like she was trying very hard to understand where her daughter was coming from, but she was still failing miserably.

Sakura nodded, feeling a bit stupid. "Yeah. Of course. I just - I felt good, having a safety net, you know?"

"I know it's a bit scary, but I know you'll be fine. You've always been very resourceful." Her mother gave her a sympathetic hug. "If it means anything, I'm only going to be a phone call away. And plane tickets aren't so expensive that I won't be able to get to you in case of an emergency, all right?"

Sakura nodded. It really wasn't the same as having her mother living three hours away by train, but it did soothe her anxieties a little.

"That said," her mother added, playing affectionately with a few locks of soft pink hair, "we've agreed with the estate agent that we'll be out by the third, so make sure you've found something by then, won't you? I'll be leaving the week before."

Sakura nodded. She'd just have to be ready. She could do that.

Unfortunately, finding a sharehouse, as it happened, was a complete nightmare.

She had to catch the train for three hours either way just to meet up with potential housemates, and she regretted it almost every time.

After the first occasion where she showed up at the house and a tall, pale man adjusted his sunglasses and asked her how she felt about 'modelling' for his 'life drawing,' Sakura made sure to meet her potential housemates in more neutral locations - public parks and cafes, in general.

Despite her best efforts, the places within her price range were inhabited by an assortment of perverts and drug addicts, and in one case a prostitute who was adamant that her clients be allowed to be in the apartment at any time of the day or night.

"Maybe you're being too picky," Ino suggested at one point. Sakura could hear her breathing change over the phone and knew she was probably lifting a heavy pot. Her father was a very successful florist, and she was often pressured into being useful around the shop.

"I don't have anything against prostitutes," said Sakura firmly, "but I don't want to live in an illegal brothel. Is that too much to ask?"

Ino made a sympathetic noise, but her response was daunting. "Looks like it might be, Forehead," she pointed out.

It was such a nightmare, in fact, that Sakura resorted to calling up everybody she knew from high school who might possibly hope to be attending Senjuu University and begging for a room, or at least a hint as to where she could find one.

Hyuuga Hinata was a girl Sakura knew only because they'd been partners in chemistry class, but she begged her number off Ino and called her anyway.

"Ano..." said Hinata softly. "My situation is different, I'm sorry. I'm living in a single in the halls of residence..." she trailed off. "Have you considered that option?"

"Can't afford it," said Sakura, scowling down at her nails.

"O-oh," said Hinata, and there was a sudden awkward pause where neither of them acknowledged that Hinata's family was filthy rich.

"Well," said Sakura brightly, "never mind! Thanks."

Sakura had tallied it up. She was probably going to spend at least thirty hours a week either at class or studying, according to the anonymous denizens of the internet. That didn't leave her a lot of time for working on the nights and weekends, and she'd need to rent a room somewhere that was very, very cheap.

"Nope, moving in with Neji and Lee," said Tenten, another girl she barely knew.

"What, two guys?" Sakura asked, diverted despite herself.

Tenten laughed. "They're _friends_," she said, with emphasis. "Lee's guardian has a dojo out in the city. We're sharing the room above it - it's going to be pretty cramped as it is. I can ask Gai-sensei if he knows anywhere, though?"

Sakura might have felt ashamed to ask for a favour so blatantly, but she really was desperate. "Yes, please," she said. "Please."

Over the next week, Tenten did text her through some leads, but they usually turned out to have been snapped up very quickly, or just slightly out of Sakura's price range.

By the time orientation day for Senjuu University's new semester arrived, Sakura still didn't have anywhere to live.

Most of the house was already packed away in storage.

"I'll leave you a key," Mebuki had promised, kissing Sakura absently on the cheek as she dug around for her passport. "You can get any of the furniture you need when you find a place, okay?"

She'd already left for the States.

Sakura was beginning to panic.

She skipped orientation day, because it wasn't like they were learning anything useful. She was pretty sure she could look up all the orientation information online later, anyway - and she needed to spend the day looking for somewhere to live.

* * *

From: Tenten  
Timestamp: 11:15 AM  
Message body: asked Gai-sensei. if you haven't got a place yet you can sleep in the dojo overnight.

To: Tenten  
Timestamp: 11:16 AM  
Message body: OMGthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou

From: Tenten  
Timestamp: 11:17 AM  
Message body: he says we have a "duty to the future to help the youth of today blossom". don't thank me yet

To: Tenten  
Timestamp: 11:20 AM  
Message body: At this point I'm regretting that I said no to Illegal Brothel Girl. I am pretty sure the last guy wanted to marry me so he could stay in the country.

There was no answer forthcoming to that, but Sakura hadn't really expected one.

* * *

Secure in having a place to at least sleep safely in while she was still trying to find somewhere to live, Sakura packed herself off to the train station the following morning.

She felt very strange about locking up the house and leaving the key, but she wasn't meant to be coming back. All the furniture was in storage, and she was leaving with a suitcase and a backpack.

Despite her familiarity with the station, Sakura felt very small and alone looking up at the departure information board.

Her train would depart in twenty minutes. At least that was plenty of time. She made it to the platform and pulled out her phone. She hadn't felt the telltale buzz of a text, but -

Well, she had no new messages anyway.

Idly, she flipped through her contacts.

To: U. Sasuke  
Timestamp: 8:03 AM  
Message body: What did you end up deciding to study, anyway?

She didn't really expect an answer back. Sasuke was nothing if not laconic. But she felt as though the familiarity of him being a cranky smartass would be very comforting right about now.

She logged into all her social media services and checked them for updates or messages. Most of the things people were posting had to do with their new dorm rooms or university timetables, and many of them were posted from locations miles and miles away.

At a quarter past, the train pulled up and Sakura hauled her suitcase on board. She settled it in the metal rack above the passengers' heads and put her backpack on her seat. She wanted to remain standing up and moving around for a little longer, since she'd be sitting down for a few hours in just a moment.

A few other people got onto the train carriage, but it seemed like it was going to be a pretty empty journey.

With a sigh, Sakura ran her hands through her hair and stared at her semi-transparent reflection in the train window while it idled at the platform. Her eyes tracked movements beyond the glass without really seeing them.

It took her a moment to react when she saw somebody move behind her.

She recognised him. "Itachi-san," she said, turning to face him and blinking in surprise. He had just shoved his own luggage above the seats and turned to look at her as well. He wore sleeveless tops well, she discovered, because he had really fabulous arms: square shoulders, smooth skin, wiry muscles.

Mmm. Yes.

Sakura dragged her eyes back to his face. Oh, god. Was she blushing already?

"Sakura-san, wasn't it?" he said quietly.

His voice was still deep.

"Yes," she said, smiling a little. He remembered her! She noticed the logo on one of his bags. "Itachi-san, do you attend Senjuu University?"

He followed her gaze and nodded. "I assume that's where you're going, too. Weren't you meant to be at orientation yesterday?"

She looked away. "Ah, I had a few problems finding somewhere to stay, so..."

He nodded. "Many students do, unless they live on campus. You found somewhere, though?"

She gnawed her bottom lip, wondering if she should just keep it to herself. But then, if Itachi-san was living in that area, he might know where she could look... She shook her head. "No, not yet. I'm staying in a - well, in a friend's dojo until I can find somewhere."

Great, now she sounded like some kind of pathetic hobo. She cringed a little inside.

The train shuddered to life underneath them and began moving off, slowly at first but steadily building steam.

Itachi made a quiet agreeing noise, and then they were silent.

There were a number of things Sakura wanted to ask him, but she found her voice was pretty uncooperative. She licked her lips and looked down at her hands.

Her phone buzzed, and, hideously thankful for the interruption, she pulled it out.

From: The Great Uzumaki Naruto, King of Ramen  
Timestamp: 8:23 AM  
Message body: he's doing science and wont tell me what major he wants. he's at Sound U, so he's like idk an hour away from you on the train?

From: The Great Uzumaki Naruto, King of Ramen  
Timestamp: 8:23 AM  
Message body: you should visit and punch him in the face for me on weekends

Sakura felt her lips curl into a smile and quickly texted back.

To: The Great Uzumaki Naruto, King of Ramen  
Timestamp: 8:24 AM  
Message body: Somebody has to do it.

"Sakura-san," said Itachi's soft voice. She blinked up at him, flicking the screen of her phone off. It was entirely possible that he wouldn't approve of text conversations about assaulting his little brother.

"I know of... There _might_ be a place," he said slowly. His face was as blank as ever, so she couldn't tell what the hesitation in his voice indicated. "I have some... friends, who live near the university. They recently had a housemate move out and will need to fill the room as quickly as possible. It must certainly be cheap."

Sakura straightened up. Cheap and available were getting to be her only real requirements anymore. "Can you introduce me?"

"You might not like it," he said. "There's no extra room at my place, or I'd invite you to stay there," he added, and she was very glad that he just ignored the way her face burned brightly at that comment. Stay? With Itachi? Her heart would never be able to handle it.

"I can't leech off my friends' kindness forever," she said. "I would really like to meet your friends."

He sighed like he was already regretting this decision. "I'll talk to them this evening and see if I can arrange a meeting tomorrow," he said.

"_Thank you_," she said, the words all coming out in a rush, clasping her hands in front of her and bowing her head.

"You might not like it," he repeated with an ominous hint of warning in his voice, which she ignored completely.

* * *

**Author's note**: Firstly, I totally stole Sasuke's award from _Daria, _so credit to Susie Lewis and Glenn Eichler for that awesome TV show.

Secondly: I have no idea what I'm doing. I just want to write a silly college AU about attractive crazy people and Sakura failing at trying to be an adult. Also, like, explosions and underwear and tasty food, those are things I want to write about too. And terrible classes. And what a really awful teacher Kakashi is. There will probably be a really hipster cafe at some point? Like, seriously. Also Orochimaru being a creeper, because: Orochimaru.

Feedback, commentary, ideas, requests (I don't make any promises, but I do like to find out what people want to read about), and MOTIVATIONAL SPEECHES THAT WILL INSPIRE THE FLAMES OF YOUTH AND RIGHTEOUSNESS INSIDE ME TO PRODUCE MORE WRITING are all welcome. Requested, even. Yes, even if you look at the date I posted the story and it was months ago. (Does anybody else do that? Look at a fanfic and go "oh, this is quite old... they probably won't want to receive reviews on it now!" because I do that a lot.) : )


	2. Chapter 2

This installment: In which Sakura finally makes it to class, meets Tsunade (-sama), discovers the Power of Youth at the Nekkutsu Dojo, and meets an art student. :)

* * *

Sakura left the train station with Itachi-san's phone number in her phone, which was terrifying and thrilling and really not something she should be getting too worked up about. It was only because he was trying to organise a meeting between her and her potential housemates, after all.

She shook her head as though that might free her stupid pale skin of her blush - Itachi-san probably thought she had some kind of freaking skin disease or something, one that somehow caused her face to become lobster red every time he looked at her - and tried to psych herself up and away from the idea.

"You don't even know him," she growled to herself, hauling her suitcase along through sheer force of will. People on the street who saw her scowling face gave her a wide berth. "He could be at least as much of an asshole as his brother."

But, tragically, she knew he wasn't. Sasuke would have grunted vaguely and ignored her entirely, if they were strangers.

She made a noise of disgust. An old lady crossed the street to avoid the expression on her face.

Sakura pulled her suitcase onto the bus laboriously while the driver rolled his eyes and huffed like she was offending his very being somehow, and managed to get her things all shoved out of the way of other passengers. She had her first lecture at twelve, so she wouldn't have time to dump any of her things at the dojo - she wasn't entirely certain how she was going to _get_ to the dojo, to be honest, because she was mostly unfamiliar with the public transport in her new city. She'd have to cope with hauling her suitcase around.

Campus was deeply confusing, and big enough to have its own post code. Senjuu University was very old and the buildings were a mishmash of odd designs: some were made of heavyset granite with tall and narrow windows, some of worn wood, some of blonde brick and bottle glass. They were attached to each other in mazelike and unfathomable ways, and on all maps and timetables they were given numbers - but the buildings themselves had names.

She spent five minutes peering up at the Hashirama Centre, trying to figure out if it was the "block 22" on her map of the university.

It ...wasn't.

Her lecture turned out to be held, not in the medicine building, but actually under the commerce building where there was an underpass beneath a walkway with the entry tucked away in the shadows.

The lecture hall was large, with a series of tiered seats made to house a couple hundred students. The lights were down so slides could be projected onto wall at the front. It seemed empty, and Sakura had the sinking feeling that she'd gotten the wrong room yet again.

"You're one of the new meddies?"

Sakura flinched at the sudden, unexpected voice. It took her a second to locate its source: a woman on the edge of the cold half-light shining from the projector, dressed in a sleeveless wrap blouse that showed off her soft, toned arms. She leaned with the swell of one hip propped against the desk at the front of the theatre and watched Sakura through a fall of blond hair. There was something terribly hard about her gaze.

"Uh, yes," said Sakura, bobbing her head in a nervous little bow. "Yes, am I in the right place?"

"Yes. You're the first one," said the woman, turning to glance at the clock on the wall. The glowing red numbers said that Sakura was ten minutes early. She breathed a sigh of relief.

"Take a syllabus and sit down. It doesn't matter where." She waved one hand vaguely. "You can leave that bag up the front so it won't be in everyone's way," she added, eyeing Sakura's suitcase.

"Ah, sorry," said Sakura, scrambling to follow her orders. "I didn't have time to move earlier, so-" she stopped, because the woman was clearly not listening. "Right," she muttered, taking a seat near the front. The front was the best place to hear the lecture, right? Right.

The woman seemed wholly disinclined to talk to Sakura, so she examined the handout instead. The syllabus included a broad description of the entire degree and a more specific outline of the first semester's classes, all of which were compulsory for med students.

Slowly, the students trickled into the lecture theatre, talking and yelling to each other.

At exactly twelve, the blond woman slammed her hand into her desk with a thunderous noise. Pretty much everybody flinched. "Quiet!"

The room fell silent.

"My name is Tsunade," she said flatly, straightening up and crossing her arms, inadvertently drawing attention to the swell of her breasts. "I'm the head of your faculty. You should all have received a handout when you came in. If you did not, you can collect one afterwards. Welcome to your first year of medicine." She gave the students what looked like a welcoming smile, but it made some deep, instinctive part of Sakura's brain want to curl up into a shivering ball.

"Let's get started. Shizune?"

"Tsunade-hakase." A smaller, dark-haired woman with a delicate face came forward, but hesitated. "Hatake-sensei isn't here," she said in a voice that probably didn't travel past the first few rows of students.

"So?" the blond snorted. "He knows the course. If we wait for him we'll never get out of here, and I have places to be."

"You don't have any classes after this one," Shizune said, even more quietly, so that Sakura had to strain to hear. She looked down at her syllabus so it wouldn't look like she was trying to listen in.

"The bar is a place," said Tsunade.

Shizune sighed.

The rest of the lecture was three hours long, interrupted only by the creak of the door when a tall man slunk in an hour late and stood leaning against the wall. The major teachers for the semester were introduced: Shizune-sensei, Kakashi-sensei, Kabuto-sensei and Tsunade-hakase - "But you can call me Tsunade-sama," she added, flipping her blond hair over one shoulder.

There was a titter through the class at her joke, but Sakura did not laugh. From the hard smile on the woman's pretty face, she thought Tsunade was probably serious.

Kabuto-sensei was a pale man with glasses and dark eyes that seemed to catch every detail. He was introduced as the teacher who would be overseeing lectures and units on the scientific basis of clinical practice. He had a warm smile and a surprisingly gentle demeanour. Following his brief introduction to the outline of his unit, Shizune-sensei bowed and smiled cheerfully and told them that she would be helping them understand the social aspects of medicine through a unit on population, society, health and illness. She seemed quiet, but competent - and probably a little more serious than Tsunade.

Lastly, the man who'd come in late was introduced as Kakashi-sensei, "teaching on the theme of personal and professional development and ethics," which seemed kind of ominous, considering how incredibly suspicious he looked. He was wearing a scarf that covered his mouth and nose, and an eyepatch over his left eye. His hair was an odd grey-white, like he'd had a bad dyejob somewhere and covered it with way too much silver toner.

He waved cutely to the seated students and then quickly resumed looking like he was about to pass out from sheer boredom.

At one point while Shizune was talking, Sakura saw Kakashi reaching for something in his back pocket - and from the corner of her eye she saw Tsunade twitch, the sudden shift of her weight, the angry cut of her eyes.

The teachers' gazes met behind an oblivious Shizune's head for a moment. Slowly, Kakashi withdrew his hand from his back pocket, fingers empty. He wiggled his fingers at Tsunade.

Her expression was thunderous.

Sakura was not quite sure what was going on, but she had the sinking, sneaking, terrible suspicion that her semester was not going to be as uneventful as she'd hoped.

* * *

From: Unknown Number  
Timestamp: 6:13 PM  
Message body: Haruno, Tenten wants me to show you to the dojo after your last class. I finish half an hour before you, so which building and room are you in?

Sakura eyed her phone.

She wasn't really sure who the text was from. It could have been from Lee, who she would imagine might have leapt at the chance to get her phone number - but she doubted it. It didn't sound like him. Probably one of the other people Tenten was living with, then.

She frowned, but fired off a quick text with her class location anyway. The message mentioned Tenten, and the person sending it clearly knew Sakura's name... and they were still on campus anyway, surrounded by people. If the guy seemed dodgy when she got out of the classroom, she could always leave and find campus security.

This lecture theatre's speakers gave an unpleasant buzz when she hit 'send,' and she tried her best not to look suspicious. Kabuto-sensei's eyes landed on her almost immediately, and his lips curled just a little.

She doubted she'd fooled him for a second.

At seven o'clock, this last lecture was finally over. The class scrambled to collect their bags and books and disappeared out the doors. A few remained behind to discuss scheduling conflicts or course concerns with Kabuto-sensei, who was settled against the desk and smiling as though he had all the time in the world for student questions at 7PM at night.

Sakura grabbed her suitcase at the front of the class and hauled it with her. She suspected her arms were going to be sore tomorrow, since she'd been pulling it from class to class all day.

She paused outside the door to the lecture theatre, looking around for the person who'd texted her.

"Haruno-san?"

She turned left and found herself face-to-face with another stranger. "Ah, are you the person who texted me?" she asked. He had white irises, but very dark hair and eyelashes. He looked a little strange with his pupils so small in the sea of white that made up his eyes.

He nodded. "Don't stare," he said shortly, turning on his heel toward the bus stops outside the gates of the campus. "It's hypocritical coming from a girl with pink hair."

Sakura felt her eyebrows rise all on their own. "I didn't mean to offend you," she said, because she had been staring, even if he was a jerk about it. And if she was going to sleep in his home, she may as well try to get along.

"You did not offend me," he said flatly. He picked up his pace.

"Okay then," muttered Sakura under her breath, struggling to keep up with her suitcase and backpack. "Glad we cleared that up."

The Nekketsu Dojo stuck out like a sore thumb. It was across the road from a shopping complex made of concrete and glass, and it was a sprawling, low building of wood. The plot of land was otherwise given over to whatever plants thrived. Next to the busy highway, it looked like something from the distant past.

"Wow," said Sakura, peering around. There was a tiny, carefully-maintained little patch of herbs growing close to the building, although it was difficult to see in the fading light. "This place is really nice."

"Sakura!" Tenten threw open the sliding door, smiling cheerfully at her. She was dressed down: soft pants, bare feet. Her shirt was sweat-stained and her face was red, but she looked happy. There was a long wooden pole in her hand, with the end curved just a little into a point. "You made it. Hi, Neji," she added, wiggling her fingers. "Dinner's supposed to be in ten minutes or so."

"Who cooked?" Neji asked, his voice and expression carefully neutral.

Sakura saw Tenten's dark brows rise knowingly. "We ordered in," she said, smiling.

Neji's posture relaxed, and he stepped through the door past her. He wasn't very friendly, but there was some closeness in the way he didn't stop his shoulder from brushing hers as he moved past.

"Here, do you need a hand?" Tenten asked, reaching one-handed for the suitcase.

"No, no, it's fine!" Sakura waved her arms, determined not to put Tenten out. "I'm so grateful that you're letting me stay here," she added, toeing off her shoes before she stepped onto Tenten's clean floors. The floors were wood, not tatami, and there were places where the walls looked as though they'd taken a serious battering.

"I thought a dojo would be more formal," Sakura said, peering around. There was a lot of empty floor space, a foam mat rolled and stored against a wall, a rack of assorted weapons - mostly wooden replicas, presumably used for training so nobody got too hurt - and a banner across one wall proclaiming the power of hard work and youthful vigour.

Tenten glanced around as though she hadn't really considered it. She ran her free hand through her sweaty hair and then gently leaned her wooden pole - thing - against one wall. "Well, we clean it every night and morning, but it's a place that's in use every day. It can't really be that formal. Come through here."

There was another screen door leading out of that huge main room into a narrow wooden corridor, which led off to a kitchen, a closet-sized bathroom, and what Sakura thought must be a store room.

"You can sleep in the main room if you want," Tenten said uncertainly, "but I thought maybe you'd want somewhere a little more private. And also because Lee begins training at four in the morning," she added, scrunching up her nose.

As far as Sakura knew, four in the morning was a thing that existed only for other people - and she was pretty happy to keep it that way. "This is fine," she said, ignoring the fact that there was no light and how she could feel a gentle breeze from cracks in the wood. "Really," she said to Tentent, who looked dubious, "this is great. Thank you."

"Um, okay. Well, just watch out for Lee's weights," she said, nodding toward a pair of desperately ugly orange legwarmers. "I've stubbed my toes on them more times than I can count. I guess I'll leave you," she nodded, and left the door open only a crack when she exited, giving Sakura a thin stripe of light to see by.

Okay, so it wasn't actually great. It was tiny, cramped, and filled with random broken stuff fromm the dojo. There were padded planks of wood, hideous legwarmers, a couple of old chains, discarded wooden weaponry that Sakura didn't really recognise. There was a definite draught coming from somewhere.

She sighed and checked her phone in case Itachi-san had texted her. She found that Naruto had sent her a photograph of a bowl of ramen he ate for dinner, but there was nothing from Itachi.

Sakura laid out her sleeping bag on the floor, finding that the room was just large enough to accommodate her sleeping body. In her backpack were the textbooks she needed for classes, and she supposed she should have started on the homework before she managed to fall behind, but there were other important things, too.

She cracked open her old laptop and began looking through job search websites. Call centres were probably her best bet, since she had a good reference from Emmerson, but they often didn't have very flexible hours.

She'd skimmed three jobs and fired off a resume to one of them before there was a crash and an excited yell. "Sakura-san!"

That was definitely Rock Lee's voice, even though it was distant - he might still have been outside the dojo, on the street. On the street, screaming her name. She sighed.

Even just a year ago, Sakura might have cringed at the sound of his voice. Now she felt a weird mix of exasperation and amusement - almost a little bit like what she felt when Naruto was being an idiot (so, always), but less coloured by the rosy glow of familiarity.

Footsteps thundered, growing louder with every second - and then suddenly they came to a stop. A shadow blocked out the light from the doorway, and when Sakura glanced up, she could see through the crack a single huge eye lit by the sickly glow from her computer screen.  
There was a quick, polite knock. "Sakura-san."

"You can open the door," she said, sliding closed the lid of her laptop and getting to her feet.

The door flew open, revealing Lee's face in all its tragically unattractive glory. He was getting to be tall now, broad-shouldered and lean-muscled and still wearing the most hideous clothes he could possibly have found.

Sakura felt the urge to avert her eyes, but grimly held on. He was a nice boy, and a good person, and she should be nice to him. "Hi, Lee. How's training?"

"It's excellent! I am improving greatly under Gai-sensei's vigorous instruction!" He beamed at her, teeth shining.

"A-ahh," she said agreeably, twitching a little. "That's good.

Lee straightened suddenly, his body taut as a wire, and saluted her. "Sakura-san!"

Why did everything he said sound like yelling?

"U-un," she responded, blinking.

His saluting hand swept around to give her a thumbs up. "Have you reconsidered your stance on going out with me yet?"

She cringed. "Um... no, Lee. I'm sorry, I haven't."

He drooped. "Oh."

There was an awkward silence. "Lee..." she sighed. "I really like you, but I don't want to go out with you."

He straightened again. "I won't be disheartened," he told her, with a small but genuine smile. "Everyday, I will try to be the best man that I can become. I'll keep improving, Sakura-san, and I'll keep trying. One day, you will accept me."

That was... sweet, she supposed, but it put her in the awkward position of denying his constant, very enthusiastic, hard work. He wasn't passive-aggressive about it, and he never made her feel as though he was _entitled_ to her - but... Sakura looked away. She kind of felt like a terrible human being.

"Lee, come on." And thank god, that was Tenten's exasperated voice. Her hand shot from somewhere else in the narrow hallway into Sakura's view, catching Lee by the top of his ear.

"Don't you ever learn?" she sighed, and gave a gentle tug. "Come on, food's here! We eat upstairs," she said to Sakura, exchanging her grip on his ear for one on his wrist and pulling Lee along behind her. "We got extra for you."

"You did?" Sakura blinked. Then she began to follow them up a narrow, old-looking wooden staircase to a much smaller second floor.

There was a room with three futons, some rice-paper divides stored to one side, and a low table. In one corner was a tiny tiled area with a single stove element, a little oven and a sink.

"Not bad for student accommodation, hey?" Tenten asked, glancing sideways at Sakura.

"True," she agreed. She almost opened her mouth to point out that Tenten could be living with some creep who wanted to draw her naked, but then she realised what kind of trouble that might cause if Lee overheard. "I've seen some pretty bad living situations recently," she said instead.

"Ah, Haruno-san!" came a huge, hearty voice. The man it issued from was like an older, shinier version of Lee: taller, bulkier, and by the looks of things, marginally crazier. "Welcome to the Nekketsu Dojo! I would never turn away a friend of my cute student! You can stay for as long as you need!"

"A-ah," said Sakura. "Thank you." She bowed low. Neji stepped around her, setting plastic take-out containers onto the table. He added a freshly-brewed pot of tea and five mismatched cups.

"Gai-sensei!" Lee said, bringing one fist to his leaking welling eyes. "You're so generous. I have so much to learn from you!"

"You live here?" Sakura whispered helplessly to Neji, and immediately felt like a giant ungrateful cow. "Sorry, I mean, it's -"

"I have known Lee and Gai-sensei for almost a decade," he said tonelessly, pouring a cup of tea. Between his old-fashioned navy yukata, his long, dark hair and his completely serene countenance, Neji seemed like he carried his own personal bubble of zen, steering it around his housemates with practised ease.

Sakura kind of envied him.

"Tea?"

"...yes, thank you," she said, inclining her head and sinking down before the table.

The food was from some local stir-fry restaurant: snow peas, baby corn, onion and red peppers with pork. It tasted vaguely Chinese, owing to the aromatic combination of sichuan peppers, fennel seeds, cloves, cinnamon and ginger root.

"This is nice," Sakura commented when there was finally a pause in which she could be heard. "Thank you," she added. She was extremely aware that she was imposing on the Nekkutsu Dojo without giving them anything in return, and she felt determined to be as polite and as little trouble as possible.

"It is excellent to see young women with appetite!" Gai-sensei said, beaming.

Sakura felt her entire face flush. She hadn't taken _that_ much, had she?

"Way to make her self-conscious, Gai-sensei," sighed Tenten. "It's fine," she added to Sakura.

There was an awkward pause, which seemed to extend to everybody at the table except Neji, whose calm was utterly impenetrable. He sipped his tea, examining the company with his strange eyes through the rising steam.

Sakura thought he was a little bit intimidating. And kind of a jerk.

The awkward silence was broken by Gai-sensei.

"I'll give you some nice advice!" he declared, waving one arm and beaming around at all of them. "Protein," he picked up a piece of meat in his chopsticks, "should make up at least twenty per cent of your diet!"

"Ohhh," said Lee, staring avidly at him.

"Should it?" Sakura said, eyeing her meal. She ate a lot of vegetables and fruits, but she was almost certain this was the first time she'd eaten meat in several days. What else had protein? Red bean paste, she supposed. Sesame seeds?

"Protein is absolutely necessary for building muscle and having sufficient essential amino acids," Gai-sensei explained. "And meat is important for iron, too. Especially for young women."

"Eh?" Sakura blinked. "Why is it more important for women?"

There was an awkward pause. Gai flushed across his cheeks a little. "Ah... when a woman is in the full bloom of her youth..." he said hesitantly.

Sakura wasn't entirely sure what that meant.

"Women bleed more," said Neji flatly. He put his tea down with a soft clink in the following silence.

"Oh." And once again Sakura's face was bright red.

Another awkward pause. Thankfully Lee just looked a little confused.

"SO," said Tenten, very loudly. "HOW WAS YOUR FIRST DAY OF MEDICINE?"

* * *

As kind as Lee and Gai were, Sakura was more than ready to retreat from their boisterous company. She cleaned up in the tiny bathroom, scrubbing at her skin with a rough washcloth, before changing into a pair of track pants and an old t-shirt and brushing her teeth.

Then she headed back to her tiny store room and left the hallway light on so she could do some homework before bed. Her phone buzzed almost as soon as she settled onto her sleeping bag.

From: Uchiha Itachi  
Timestamp: 8:42 PM  
Message body: Can you do 3:30 PM outside the fine arts building?

Sakura dithered over how soon she should return his message and what she should say.

To: Uchiha Itachi  
Timestamp: 8:50  
Message body: I can do 3:30 PM. Tomorrow's my short day. Thank you.

She wondered if he would text her back.

He didn't.

And why would he?

"Idiot." With a frustrated sigh aimed mostly at herself, Sakura cracked open _Clinical examination: a systematic guide to physical diagnosis_ and began to read.

* * *

At five o'clock in the morning, Sakura was woken by the door to the storeroom she was sleeping in being hurled open. It banged against the wall and she sat up, shrieking.

"Good morning, Sakura-san!" Gai-sensei was standing in her doorway, fully dressed, in a pose with one hand stuck out in a thumbs-up. "Let's sweat our youth's sweat together!"

Sakura's eyes went huge. "Wh-what?"

Was that some kind of euphemism? She stared in horror.

"Mou..." sighed Tenten, peering around the edge of the door. Her eyes were bleary and her hair was only half-up. She was still fiddling with the left side, twisting it into a bun. "He wants you to come for a run with us."

"I don't run," Sakura said blankly.

Gai-sensei's pose and expression didn't waver.

Tenten just yawned. "He won't stop until you do, so... better put your shoes on."

Sakura was not a runner. She hadn't really thought of herself as being unfit: she could jog to catch a bus, dance to songs when they were fun, climb flights of stairs - all of the normal, day-to-day things, she could do without feeling breathless or exhausted.

But there was an enormous difference between lazy-girl daily-life fit and Nekketsu Dojo fit.

Sakura discovered that she could run for approximately five minutes before her lungs were burning and her head was dizzy. "I can't," she gasped, dropping back to a walk. "I -"

"Then we'll walk for a few minutes, and run another kilometer!" Lee said brightly, dropping back to keep her company.

"Pathetic." Neji sniffed disdainfully and picked up the pace.

"Jerk," Tenten rolled her eyes. "Guess I'll see you back at the dojo," she shrugged, following after him.

"Gai-sensei, you should go ahead too!" Lee declared firmly. "I will keep Sakura-san company and make sure she returns safely." He struck a thumbs-up pose.

"Nice!" beamed Gai, and took off after the others. His long legs covered the ground easily.

It was only then that Sakura realised that they'd all slowed down dramatically for her. "Oh, god," she moaned.

"Sakura-san?" Lee looked alarmed.

"Neji's a jerk, but he's right," she said ruefully. "I'm a bit pathetic."

"Sakura-san, everybody is pathetic when they first start something new," he said confidently. "It's your youthful determination and how you improve that counts!"

Maybe, Sakura thought, but after running six lots of five minutes in an hour, she was pretty sure that she had exactly zero determination to improve on it. Mostly she wanted to have a shower and sit down until her legs would hold her up again.

And it wasn't even six thirty yet.

* * *

It was Sakura's short day at uni, so classes were only from 10 AM until 3PM. For the future, she had hopes that when she found work she might be able to take a shift from four until eight somewhere, but for now that time was good for studying.

She heaved a sigh when she got to the fine arts building because she could finally stop walking. It was only a quarter past, so she figured she had time to wait. She contemplated putting her backpack down, but the area was kind of dirty, so she left it on her back. Gingerly, she stretched out her legs. It had only been ten hours since she'd gone (been forced into!) running, and she was already developing an ache.

That didn't bode well. She wondered how it was going to feel the next day. Intolerable, probably.

She balanced carefully on one foot and pulled the other up behind her, cautiously stretching out her quadriceps. It was already so stiff. That couldn't be good.

Something twinged in her ankle, and she lost her balance, pinwheeling her arms like an idiot. She might have saved herself, but her backpack threw her off balance. "Eek!"

Somebody quite unexpectedly grabbed one of her flailing arms in long-fingered hands. Sakura found herself steadied back on both feet, and then released.

She turned. For a second she was sure it was a girl - a girl with seriously the nicest hair she'd ever seen, nicer than _Ino's_, even, blond and thick and flowing and fluttering in the breeze like a freaking shampoo advertisement - with bright blue eyes and a remarkably pretty face. But then details jumped out at her: the breadth of shoulders, the hard edge of his jaw, the thinness of the lips.

He caught his bangs in one hand, sweeping them out of his eyes. "You know, I don't think I've ever seen a girl who can't stretch her own legs without falling over, yeah," he said, grinning at her. His voice was definitely male.

"I wouldn't have fallen," she said defensively, adjusting her pack on her shoulders.

"Suuure," he said. "I think it's traditional to say 'thank you, senpai,' yeah?" He raised an eyebrow.

She rolled her eyes. "Thank you, senpai," she said in her most saccharine voice, and bowed as far as the weight on her back would let her.

"Are you a new art student? I don't think I've seen you around before, yeah," he said, leaning against the wall of the building. It was mossy and kind of gross, but he was wearing old jeans and a shirt two sizes too big that was so stained it was hard to tell what colour it once might have been - he probably didn't care much about his clothes.

"No, I'm waiting to meet somebody here," she said. "But you definitely look like an art student."

"What gave it away?" he asked, peering down at himself. He examined one hand, and she saw that despite his long, dextrous-looking fingers, his nailbeds were stained with something brown and chemical-looking.

Sakura was distracted by something rather different. "Where are your shoes?" she stared

He wiggled his bare toes. "I think I left them somewhere, yeah," he said thoughtfully. "Maybe the dark room."

Sakura was pretty sure you couldn't get as messy as he was doing photography, but decided she didn't know enough about art to comment.

The blond man looked back at her again. He didn't have to look far down - he was only an inch or two taller than she was, which was a nice change. "You are a new student, though, yeah? I think I'd remember somebody with pink hair wandering around. Your eyebrows are the same colour, so it's natural, yeah?"

"Yeah." She touched her hair self-consciously. "I've been getting in trouble for having it 'dyed' for most of my school life," she said with a half-smile. "I'm a med student. Just started. It's..."

"A lot of boring work, yeah," he suggested, scrunching up his nose.

"Well, not boring. But there's a lot of classes and, yeah... a lot of work..." she trailed off. She checked the time on her phone. Itachi should arrive soon, at least. "Do you do some specific kind of art or something here?" she looked back at the building. "I don't know anything about art, so it's probably pointless to ask, but -"

From the way his blue eyes lit up she suspected that it was in fact not at all pointless to ask. "Everybody here has to develop their own vision, yeah. And your studio work reflects that, so... I guess, art's kind of... it has a productive disagreement with itself, yeah? It's in constant flux. I mean, maybe you can look at some boring old painting in the Louvre and be all like 'Oooh, art, it's so old, it's so culturally significant!' but that's not really what art _is_. That's what art _does_, for some people, that thing where you have to make your mark forever, I guess. For me..." he waved one stained hand a little wildly. "I think things are beautiful _because_ they're ephemeral. So some kinds of disciplines are better at that than others, for me, yeah?"

"I could see that," Sakura ventured thoughtfully. "Like, you wouldn't be that interested in painting or, um, like, metalwork or whatever, would you?" She suspected she was about to sound very stupid, but she'd probably never even see this guy again - what would it hurt? "Like have you ever done flower arranging? I mean... because you make an arrangement, and it's so still and harmonious, and there's all these careful principles, but... the flowers decay, too. They die. And it changes? That's ephemeral, right?"

He shook his head. "I don't do any flower arranging, but I think it's sort of in line with what I'm talking about, yeah. Except, that's, like - that's a slow decay, a day by day change. You've gotta get all that energy that goes into that decay, all the entropy and chaos and - and -" he brought his hands together, fingers twined, and then pulled them apart violently fast, "_Bang_!" His lips curved. "Something like that, yeah."

Sakura tilted her head. She couldn't imagine it. "I don't..."

"Fireworks," he said, grinning.

"Huh," said Sakura.

"And explosions," he added, smile widening. He looked just a little too excited about that idea.

"I... see." She wondered where the hell Itachi was. This guy was nice, she supposed, but - kind of weird.

"I didn't scare you, did I?" the blond man asked, leaning forward into her space. His hair brushed her shoulder, and she imagined for a second that she could feel it through her blouse. He had white, even teeth and a terribly sweet smile. "It'd be a shame to scare away the first pretty girl I've gotten to talk to me in..." he trailed off, looking like he couldn't remember such an occasion. He tapped his bottom lip in an exaggerated display of thoughtfulness.

Sakura fought off the urge to roll her eyes. She knew she was probably average at best in terms of her looks, and she sincerely doubted it had been that long since a much prettier girl had tried to chat him up, because he was pretty and charming and had really fabulous hair.

"I swear, I haven't blown up anything really important since I was fourteen or something, yeah," he said, batting his eyelashes a little.

She laughed helplessly. _Weird_ but kind of fun. "Oh, good," she snorted. "Was that supposed to make me feel better somehow?"

"Well, it's fine if you do it safely," he said shrugging one shoulder and leaning back against the wall. He didn't seem too determined to follow through on his flirting, which was simultaneously a relief and a disappointment. "Who are you waiting for, anyway?"

"Actually," Sakura said as she recognised Itachi moving smoothly across the concrete toward her. "I think the people I'm meant to meet are here." She waved.

Itachi was followed by a man who must have been four or five inches taller than him, broad and bulky with muscle. His skin was dark, and although he was covered nearly head to toe in clothing, Sakura could see that there was something kind of wrong with his mouth, something she couldn't make out at a distance. As they came closer she realised the man had old scars, like poorly-done sutures to either side of his mouth. Poor man, she thought, trying not to stare.

"Really," said the art student, raising his eyebrows so high they almost disappeared into his hair. "Fancy that, yeah."

"Ah," said Itachi, looking between them blank-faced but with a hint of amusement in his eye. "Sakura-san. I see you've met Deidara."

Sakura blinked. She looked between them. "Ehh?"

* * *

Apparently today was the kind of day where I felt okay writing six thousand words. Who would have thought? Well, it's not beta-read (perhaps obviously), and I'm honestly not paying too much attention to the writing style because I've decided that this is a fun silly fic where I'm going to try my hardest not to care too much. xD

Ah, I got reviews! That's very exciting. I had better respond to them so people will leave me more reviews and comments, ne?

**Dear Guest**: It is not Kisame! I am very sorry. I think Kisame is Itachi's housemate, but I do like him. He'll show up at some point!

**XxChemicalKatxX**: Thank you~ :)

**Rawr**: There's definitely going to be flirting and unresolved sexual tension and probably people putting their faces on other people's faces. I'm not actually sure about hard and fast pairings right now, but I think Sakura definitely likes Itachi.

**Dear other Guest!** Balancing the Equation got taken down because I disliked it immensely and it was unfinished. It's not going back up, so, sorry if you liked it. I guess I could write about Tenten, but I'm not sure what I'd even write. I could hook her up with like Kakuzu or Zetsu or something as a side pairing, I suppose, that might be funny. Team Gai is pretty fun to write, so they'll probably be back either way. :)

**Edit: **Shubhs pointed out a typo. It's fixed now. Thank you~


	3. Chapter 3

This installment: Sakura meets some more people, fears for her life, experiences a confectionary assault, inspects her new home and makes the same mistake twice.

* * *

Itachi introduced the scarred man as Kakuzu, no surname given. He was significantly older than Sakura, which was something of a puzzle - he looked well and truly old enough to have graduated. Maybe he was just a slacker?

"Kakuzu-san has a bachelor degree in accounting and is currently studying a master of business law," Itachi explained a moment later. Sakura nodded. That made more sense. "Sakura-san is a first year medical student. She is a friend of my brother's. And you've met Deidara," he added, nodding to the blond man.

"We've met, yeah," Deidara agreed. "Although I didn't realise she was going to be my housemate. Itachi, you didn't say the person you were introducing would be a pretty girl, yeah," he chided.

Itachi blinked, and then glanced at Sakura. He looked back to Deidara. "I didn't," he agreed in a neutral tone.

It could have meant anything, agreement, disagreement, scorn. Sakura suspected with a sinking gut that this was the point. Itachi seemed to follow that old adage about keeping one's mouth shut if there was nothing nice to say.

Sakura was mortified, and flushed a shamefully bright red.

Itachi didn't look at her again.

She was kind of grateful.

Deidara glanced between them and sighed. "Trust Itachi not to notice, yeah!" he said, bumping her shoulder with his gently. "There are also two other people living in the house, but they won't come today," he added to her, waving one hand. "But don't worry about them, they're pretty okay guys."

Itachi looked seriously dubious at this statement, but he didn't contradict it aloud. He glanced at his watch anyway. "I'm sorry, Sakura-san, I have a torts lecture in three minutes. Please call me if there are any problems," he added.

"Ah - okay, thank you for your help, Itachi-san," Sakura said weakly. She thought Deidara was weird but probably okay, but Kakuzu-san... well, he was a little bit intimidating. And huge. Seriously, he had to be over six feet tall. He completely dwarfed Deidara.

Itachi waved and left. Sakura looked after him, a little longingly.

"Are... is it just men, in the house?" Sakura asked a little hesitantly.

"Yeah." Said Deidara. He peered at her curiously. "Is that bad?"

"The door on the empty room locks, Sakura-san," said Kakuzu, eyeing her. "What's your current financial status?" he demanded. "Are you employed?"

"Uh..." Sakura eyed him. That was very abrupt. Well, she supposed it was important that a potential housemate could pay rent and bills. "I had to resign from my job last week to move here, but I have some savings, and I have submitted my resume to a number of the local businesses so I hope to be getting some hours of proper work soon... if it takes too long for that, I'll probably tutor some high school students in maths or science," she added.

"Do you have a bank statement?" Kakuzu asked, holding out one hand.

"A... are you serious?" Sakura wondered. "Who the hell carries around a bank statement?" she blurted, scowling.

"I'll also accept your most recent payslip," he said.

He _was_ serious.

"Don't worry about Kakuzu, Sakura-san," Deidara said. "The housemate you'd be replacing had to leave because he refused to pay the rent. That's why we need somebody on such short notice - none of us can cover the payments much longer."

Her eyes widened. "That's so irresponsible."

"Hah, as expected from a medical student, yeah. Do you want to see the house?"

"I..."

Kakuzu looked thoroughly unimpressed. "Not until I see some proof that she can make the payments," he said in a growl.

"What do you want her to do? Go to the bank and get a new statement? Don't be stupid, yeah," Deidara sighed. "She's Itachi's friend, I'm sure she's good for it."

"Itachi-san is friends with _you_," Kakuzu pointed out, crossing his arms.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Deidara's voice dropped, and his face darkened. He was still pretty, but there was a light in his eyes that Sakura wasn't entirely certain she liked. She was glad the expression wasn't directed at her.

Sakura held her hands up. "If there's a bank around here, we can do that, Kakuzu-san. I thought you were being rude, but I guess if you've had bad experiences with previous housemates, it's a reasonable thing to ask."

"He would have asked that anyway, yeah," muttered Deidara.

"You should have brought documents with you anyway," Kakuzu said sourly, but he settled back on his heels and disengaged from his incipient confrontation with Deidara. "Which bank are you with? There's a couple on campus."

Sakura told him, and he nodded and began walking. He was confident as to where he was going, strides long and loose, even though people looked at him, flinched, and quickly looked away. She wondered what that was like.

"To be honest, I did the first few times I went to meet people about houses," Sakura confessed as they walked, "but they all turned out to be..." she trailed off, not sure how to describe it.

"To be what?" Deidara tilted his head. He was keeping up easily, even though his bare feet had to be freezing on the concrete.

He was smiling again, all sweetness and light and faintly chemical smells. She felt like she'd almost imagined that unpredictable sense of danger before.

"Well, there were drug addicts... and perverts," she scrunched her nose up. "One man said I could live with him only if I'd let him draw me naked. I mean, I'm not saying models are sluts or anything, but..."

"Oooh, creepy, yeah." Deidara laughed at her and then looked her up and down. It wasn't an insulting look, more cautiously assessing. "That's dumb, anyway. Modelling's not actually that easy," he said confidently. "If you haven't done it before it can be really hard. You've gotta hold poses until they hurt like hell and you start shaking, and people never time them properly, yeah - they'll say 'two minutes, dynamic pose' and then ten minutes later they'll freak out when you can't hold it. I had a workshop once where my tutor wanted the model holding herself up by her fingers and toes only for fifteen minutes -"

"How much did he offer to pay you?" Kakuzu broke in.

"Pay me?" Sakura repeated, dragging her gaze away from Deidara's animated hands.

Kakuzu turned his eyes on her. She hadn't realised earlier, but they were extremely green. His expression seemed to indicate that he thought she was a moron. "Pay you. In money," he clarified.

"I didn't let him get that far!"

He grunted, and then seemed to lose interest entirely. "Do you play a musical instrument?"

"No?" She honestly had no idea where that question came from.

"Good. Smoke?"

"Mmm-mm," she shook her head.

Apparently her willingness to answer was her downfall because Kakuzu took it as an invitation to rattle off question after personal question. Some of them were sensible, like whether or not she was accustomed to loud parties at all hours of the night. Others were... strange.

She thought 'do you have any psychiatric problems that may pose a health hazard to your housemates' was strangely specific but at least it made actual sense. But then he looked at her seriously and said: "Do you conduct any ritual slaughter of animals after midnight?"

"Excuse me?" her voice hit an entirely new pitch.

"I said -"

"She _heard you_, you butthead," Deidara said loudly over him, smacking him in the arm. "Stop it, you're going to scare her away, yeah!"

Kakuzu looked between Deidara's scowl and Sakura's bewildered - and slightly concerned - expression. "Fine," he said after a second. "If her bank statement checks out she can have the room."

Deidara muttered something tremendously unflattering about Kakuzu's mother and a dog, which Sakura pretended not to hear. Kakuzu sped up, lengthening his strides until he was ahead of them.

Deidara scratched the back of his neck. "He can be kind of intense, but he's an all right housemate," he said. "He pays everything on time, keeps track of all the bills and stuff, and he argues with the agent for us when they get angry. And he's really quiet most of the time."

Sakura nodded slowly. "Hey," she said after a few seconds of walking in silence.

"Yeah?"

"Does that mean you can conduct ritual slaughter of animals _before_ midnight?" she wondered, watching the broad stretch of Kakuzu's shoulders as he walked ahead of them. She could see his shoulder blades pressing against the material of his shirt when he moved.

Deidara flashed her his teeth. "As long as you clean up after yourself," he laughed. She was almost certain he was joking.

After standing in line for ten minutes at the bank - during which Deidara wandered off to examine the posters on a noticeboard, loudly criticising their composition and annoying the student union representative who was trying to tape them up - Sakura finally managed to produce a bank statement that met with Kakuzu's approval.

"That's fine," he said, and handed it back.

"Great," Deidara called over his shoulder, rolling his eyes. "I can show her the room now, yeah?"

Kakuzu grunted and pulled a phone out of his pocket. "I've got a class," he said. "Do what you want."

Which was how Sakura found herself being tugged down to student parking by the elbow. "You have a car?" she questioned. "You live in a share house, but you have a car?"

"It's shared, yeah," he said, shrugging. "We all use it. Kakuzu has a bike, though. He can make his own way home."

The car was - at one point - white. Now it was mostly white, but the front had been painted with a huge, reddish-brown spatter. It looked like somebody had been run down at high speed.

Sakura decided not to mention the paint job, and instead climbed into the passenger seat, swinging her backpack around so it sat on her lap. The interior had seen many, many better days. There were cigarette burns in the dash board, the handle for rolling down the passenger window was missing, and when Sakura looked up she saw that the inside cover for the roof was missing, so above them was a patchwork of foam and metal.

"It's rustic, yeah," said Deidara cheerfully, noticing her gaze.

She reached up and fingered the place where somebody had carved 'BANG!' into the foam. "Uh-huh," she said, smiling a little.

The engine turned over on the second try and Deidara pulled out. "Hold on tight, yeah?" he said, grinning.

Deidara drove like a crazy person.

Sakura didn't have her license, so she wasn't certain, but she thought that maybe it was traditional to slow down before turning sharp corners.

She knew that people usually stopped at red lights, instead of slamming the accelerator and laughing wildly.

Sakura clung on for dear life, but she couldn't contain a gasp and a shriek when they finally went from hurtling at a hundred km an hour to a complete stop with all the grace of a one-legged drunken ballerina and within about two seconds. "_How do you even still have your license?_ " she hissed.

Deidara smiled, bright and sudden and so wide it looked nearly painful. "Come on, Sakura-san~! That was fun, yeah."

"_I nearly died_," she said, waving her arms.

"But you _didn't_," he pointed out, leaning into her space. He was close enough that she could feel the warmth of his breath on her jaw.

"I'd prefer not to risk it," she said firmly.

"No? Isn't your heart racing? It was exciting, yeah? Ne, Sa-ku-ra-san?" His glossy blue eyes glittered through a spill of pale hair, and for a second he was so beautiful it was hard to breathe.

Her heart was racing. "Exciting, in a kind of oh-my-god-I'm-going-to-die way," she said, turning her face away and playing it cool.

"That's the best kind, yeah," said Deidara, leaning back and getting out of the car. She noticed that he had not bothered to secure his seat belt. Was this what they called a 'passive death wish'?

Sakura sighed and climbed out. She wondered if she really wanted to live with these people. Kakuzu was abrupt and kind of rude, but he at least seemed relatively well-grounded. Deidara was cheerful and really friendly, but she was increasingly sure he was actually a crazy person.

She wondered if she could put up with that.

The house was an extremely old one, narrow and several stories high. The houses on either side were of a similar design, but universally better-kempt.

There was a front garden, which was big, but it hadn't been mown in a very long time. The white paint was peeling away, leaving the wood vulnerable to the weather. There was a tiny verandah guarded by a wooden railing, and as they climbed up three creaking steps to reach it Sakura could see that somebody had moved an old couch and several faded cushions onto the roofed area. There was a discarded wine bottle leaning against the wall.

The door seemed to have been repainted relatively recently by comparison, although the frame cherry-red and the door itself absolutely black and it didn't even remotely match the rest of the house. In the middle of the black door, there was a white painting of a triangle inside a circle.

Sakura eyed it, but Deidara didn't even seem to notice. He unlocked the door with some effort, putting his shoulder into it and shoving. It smacked against the far wall with a bang. He waved Sakura in, and she stepped over the threshold.

Immediately, she was confronted with a giant... swirly... orange... thing.

The swirly thing moved, and she realised that it was a lollipop only slightly bigger than her entire head.

"Deidara-senpai~!"

"What the hell are you doing here?" Deidara asked.

"Tobi has come to meet Deidara-senpai's new housemate," he said, beaming. He peered down at Sakura. He tilted his head, examining her carefully.

She returned the favour. He was striking, with huge dark eyes and long lashes, a straight nose and soft-looking lips. He smelled sweet, and was wearing a dark apron over his street clothes.  
He blinked at her, smiled brightly, and licked his lollipop. "You have pretty hair," he told her.

"...thank you," said Sakura, because she believed firmly that no matter how weird people were, good manners were welcome everywhere. "I'm Haruno Sakura," she bowed a little, but he was so close she didn't really have enough room.

His eyes widened. "Sakura-chan! It's nice to meet you. I hope you can live here with everyone! You can call me Tobi-kun," he said, and opened his mouth again, but he was interrupted by an explosion of temper from Deidara.

"HOW DID YOU EVEN GET INSIDE, YEAH?" he bellowed. Then, with a twitch, he smacked him over the head and added, "Don't be so familiar!"

Tobi rubbed his head, pouting. "Ehh..." he held up a key. "Hidan-san said he'd tell Tobi something good if Tobi left him alone," he said brightly. "Tobi is a good boy, so -"

"Hai, hai," said Deidara, snatching the key away from him and rubbing his head as though he had developed a terrible headache in the last few minutes. "Tobi, Sakura-san. Okay, good, you've been introduced. Now get out," he pulled him by the arm and shoved him toward the door.

"Ehh? But Tobi didn't get to give Sakura-chan her lollipop!" he reached around Deidara's head and waved another huge lollipop at her. Deidara was a lot shorter and slighter than him, and making him move through sheer weight seemed to be a challenge. "Tobi is learning to be a chef! Today we played with the confectioners' thermome-"

Deidara hooked one heel behind Tobi's knee and sent him sprawling onto the verandah. "SHE DOESN'T TAKE CANDY FROM STRANGERS, YEAH!"

He slammed the door. The frame shook and the house creaked in protest.

Then he leaned against it, eyes wide, hair just a little wild, breathing hard. Exertion left a flush high across his cheekbones. Sakura had a horrible, terribly perverted moment of wondering if that was what he looked like when -

No.

No, Sakura.

"Ah... Tobi-san is..." she coughed.

"He's an idiot. He doesn't live here," said Deidara, looking at the door with a thunderous expression. He dropped the key he'd taken from Tobi on a low table at the entryway. Then he deflated a little. "But he's here a _lot_ so if you really hate him a lot, you probably shouldn't live here."

"He didn't seem that bad," she said. Compared to Gai and Lee, she thought, he was positively benign.

Deidara gave her a dubious look, like he wasn't quite sure if she was joking or not. Then he seemed to shrug it off.

He showed her the house, which had narrow corridors and stairs but large rooms with surprisingly high ceilings. The kitchen had an old gas oven, which seemed to Sakura to require either two people, three hands or the loss of a limb to actually light, but it was surprisingly clean for a house of young men.

"There's two bathrooms, yeah," Deidara commented, pushing the door open, showing the cracked, ancient patterned tiles on the walls. There was a rusty stain on the old bath tub, but Sakura suspected it wasn't the kind of thing that came off.

They went up the stairs, which were too narrow to allow them to go two abreast. "Nobody else is home right now, but that's where Sasori-senpai is," Deidara pointed at the door nearest the landing, "and Kakuzu is across from him. And up again," he said, prodding her up another narrow flight of stairs.

The second floor of the house was smaller and creaked even more ominously. "Second bathroom," he pointed.

Sakura poked her head in. It was much the same as the one on the ground floor, but markedly messier.

Also there were silky strands of shedded blond hair freaking everywhere. She pulled one that was stuck to the wall away and examined it for a second. "I guess you're on this floor?"

"Hey, that's not mine," Deidara said. "It's Hidan's, yeah. Don't blame me for his mess."

"Wait, you both have long blond hair?"

"Yeah. Mine's nicer, though," he said confidently, shaking his bangs out of his eyes.

Sakura'd believe it. She was still kind of fighting the urge to run her fingers through it. It looked _so soft._ She touched her own hair self-consciously. "Would my room be somewhere up here?"

"This one, yeah," he grabbed her arm and tugged her toward a room directly across from the bathroom.

It was broad, full of light, empty and mostly clean - really, it was just dusty, and there was a strange scorch mark on the floor. Somebody had left a free-standing mirror against one wall. There was a built in wardrobe which, when opened, revealed a single metal bar for hanging clothes.

"It has a balcony?" she asked, and then answered her own question by throwing open the doors with a squeal of protesting hinges. "Wow," she said, stepping outside. It was a tiny balcony, really, probably only big enough for two or three people at best, but two floors up it had a surprisingly nice view of the backyard and the neighbourhood. It was pretty close to the balcony of the house next door, where somebody was growing a huge number of plants.

"It's lovely," she said, spinning around to look at Deidara, who was leaning against the doorframe. "I can't believe it's so cheap," she said, eyeing him. "What's wrong with it?"

"With the house? Nothing, yeah. Most houses are pretty cheap when you split the rent into fives," he pointed out. "If you want it, you can probably just move in whenever. If Kakuzu doesn't mind, the others won't care at all."

"Really?" she frowned.

"We need someone to pay the rent, yeah," he reminded her. "Nobody's going to care as long as you can front up the bond and a month's rent straight away."

Sakura nodded thoughtfully. Did she want to live here? She thought about it. It was definitely the best offer she'd gotten so far - and also, somehow, the cheapest. She could do this. Even if she didn't manage to get a job for another couple of months, she'd probably be okay. And it wasn't far from the university, either... "I think I'll move in tomorrow, then," she said firmly.

"Great," said Deidara, clapping his hands. "I'll tell Kakuzu to get the forms for the agent, yeah?"

Sakura's phone buzzed, and she pulled it out, punching in her unlock code as she answered. "Yeah, sure."

From: PIG  
Timestamp: 4:02 PM  
Message body: OMG my roommate is insane. She plays the flute at three in the morning and won't take off her hideous purple rope-belt thing, I don't even know what's wrong with her. She has issues, Forehead. Issues.

The most recent message was from Ino, but there was one she'd missed earlier, too.

From: Tenten  
Timestamp: 3:22 PM  
Message body: TIL there is nothing scarier in the middle of a competition match than having the guy youre fighting start screaming that hes enjoying his youth

She snorted back a laugh.

"Something funny, yeah?" Deidara didn't look up from his own phone, where he was typing very quickly, letting Kakuzu know that she'd agreed to take the room.

"I think it would take too long to explain," she said. "Anyway, I guess I'll bring my stuff by tomorrow?"

He looked up and nodded. "Definitely, yeah. Tomorrow's Wednesday so... somebody should be home. Sasori-san or Kakuzu, probably."

They exchanged phones and each put in their own number. Sakura wasn't sure what to put hers under, so she settled for her full name, but when she got her phone back she saw that Deidara had put his in under 'Deidara-kun.' She couldn't help but smile a little.

"Do you want a lift back to wherever you're staying now?" he asked as they approached the door.

"No!" she blurted. Then she coughed. "Uh, no. Thank you. I can catch the bus."

"I _can_ drive slowly, yeah," he said, sounding a little affronted. "I promise I'll get you there in one piece."

She really wasn't sure how to get to the Nekketsu Dojo by public transport, and... well, she could feel the ugly stiffness growing in her legs from her exercising adventures that morning. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad...

"Can you?" she asked cautiously.

"Absolutely, yeah," said Deidara, smiling. His smile was incredibly sweet, and looked very innocent.

"All right. Thank you."

"No problem, yeah!"

* * *

Deidara could _not_ drive slowly.

In fact, Sakura was not one hundred per cent certain that he could drive at all.

"I am _never_ getting into a vehicle with you again," she swore when they finally arrived.

He gave her a hurt look. "I stopped at the red light and everything, yeah," he complained.

"No," she said, getting out. "You really, really didn't." Fear for her life warred briefly with her manners, and finally her manners won out. "Thank you for the lift, Deidara-kun," she said. It was pretty bold to change the way she addressed him so quickly to something so familiar, especially since he was older than her, but, hey, he'd put it into her phone like that.

He gave her one last bright smile and shook his hair back from his face. "See you tomorrow, yeah!"

He waved vaguely out the driver's side window as he pulled away from the curb without looking. Horns blared. His waving hand changed to a flipping-the-bird hand without missing a beat.

"I hope he gets home okay," Sakura murmured, watching his car disappear down the road.

* * *

That night, as she lay awake in her sleeping bag on the cold wooden floor of the Nekketsu Dojo, Sakura's phone buzzed once again. She reached for it.

From: Uchiha Itachi  
Timestamp: 10:01 PM  
Message body: Was everything all right?

To: Uchiha Itachi  
Timestamp: 10:07 PM  
Message body: Seems okay. I'm moving in tomorrow. How does Deidara-san still have his license?

From: Uchiha Itachi  
Timestamp: 10:08 PM  
Message body: He doesn't.

From: Uchiha Itachi  
Timestamp: 10:09 PM  
Message body: Please try not to get killed, Sakura-san.

* * *

Okay, notes. I decided to change 'no danna' to 'senpai' for Deidara's form of address to Sasori. Unless it's an in-joke, I don't think 'danna' really makes sense in the AU-verse. I don't know what universities elsewhere are like but there are two banks on campus at my university, sooo... now they're on Sakura's campus, too.

Less happened in this installment than I wanted to, but then I also wanted to post again because I have classes and I need to work late for the next couple of days, soooo... yeah. Chapter~

I responded to a couple of the reviews via PM, but the ones I didn't have responses below.

**Dear XxChemicalKatxX** - Thank you! I hope my characterisation of Deidara doesn't take too much of a turn for the worse, then.

**Dear Analelle - **Waking somebody up at stupid-o-clock to do exercise against their will should be some kind of human rights violation. It's pretty perverse how much I'm looking forward to writing Sakura trying to move around the next day. ; )

And a thank you to **Poppy Grave** **Dreams **for his/her/xir review, too. : )

Next chapter I think there will be more of the university staff (Tsunade is a babe okay, don't judge me, she's a babe, unf) and probably Sakura regretting her decision to confine herself with madmen. And probably more people bitching to Sakura via text because I like writing them, they're ridiculous. :)

I will almost certainly write faster if inspired by interesting reviews or comments. Also I usually manage to answer questions or whatever via PM or in the next chapter. SUBTLE HINT IS SUBTLE LIKE KAKUZU'S STITCHYFACE.


	4. Chapter 4

**This installment:** Sakura goes to class, moves house, has a seriously scarring experience with a goat, and finds herself regretting her decisions kind of a lot.

**This installment contains violence** and, uh, **weird sexual themes**, I guess. There's a scene with Hidan in which there's a bit of gore and an inappropriate erection, so please **read with caution**!

* * *

Between starting new classes and finding somewhere to live, Sakura felt like she should have been tired out enough to sleep soundly. She didn't. She ended up awake at quarter to one, flipping through Itachi's text messages on her phone.

He hadn't really texted her enough to warrant it. But he, and his friends, were on her mind.

She wondered if he thought about her anywhere near as often as she thought about him.

...she doubted it.

She was an idiot. Yes, he was cute. But he didn't seem remotely interested in her, so she should just stop freaking thinking about him and his huge dark eyes and stupid deep voice.

And, well, screw him for being so quietly and gently _nice_.

Sakura covered her face with her forearm, shielding her eyes from the glow of her phone's screen. She felt the weight of exhaustion behind her eyes, just waiting to press against her and drag her down. She closed her eyes, but the feeling was strangely elusive. Instead, she found herself contemplating the logistics of getting her stuff to the new house tomorrow, the identification she'd need to get herself added to the lease, whether she'd done enough reading on cardiovascular systems to get through her tutorial tomorrow...

She rolled over, blinked her eyes open, puffed out her cheeks and exhaled heavily.

Her phone said it was 1:07 AM.

Awesome.

A distraction was needed.

To: PIG  
Timestamp: 1:07 AM  
Message body: Have you tried asking her to not play her flute at three in the morning? What's Kaze-Capital like, anyway?

Sometimes Ino was so focused on being devious that she missed the obvious solutions.

Sakura was startled by a buzz just a few seconds later.

From: PIG  
Timestamp: 1:08 AM  
Message body: i shouldn't have to ask her! it's obvious. the freaking noise that flute makes is a violation of the natural order and i am going to throw it in the bottom of the pool. i've heard chlorine's really good for silver. _

From: PIG  
Timestamp: 1:08 AM  
Message body: Kaze-Capital is awesome, as expected from any place where I reside. Also? OMG, go to sleep.

She snorted softly. She had the feeling that Ino was not likely to get on with her room mate anytime soon. She wondered if she should text her about her own new housemates, but decided against it - Ino would just ask a million questions to which Sakura didn't have the answers.

Somehow the familiar interaction between them soothed her a little, and Sakura found herself dropping off to sleep slowly but surely.

She was woken about four hours later, to the sound of the store room door banging open.

"SAKURA-SAN," bellowed Gai-sensei, silhouetted against the light from the hallway.

"Mmmngh," said Sakura.

An attempt to curl into a ball inside her sleeping bag caused every muscle in her legs to start screaming.

Sakura made a strangled noise.

"Sakura-san," said Gai-sensei again, this time leaning down to tug her bag away from her face. "It's time for our run!"

"I can't," she said flatly, staring blearily at him through a spill of messed up pink hair. He smiled and his teeth glinted.

Five AM. For god's sake, why?

"My legs don't work. You've broken them. Goodnight." She tugged on the bit of sleeping bag that he was clutching, but he was an awful lot stronger and it didn't come free.

His smile gentled a little. "You made such a good start yesterday, Sakura-san," he said. "It would be a shame to give up now."

"I'm absolutely willing to accept that," she said flatly. "Shame. Shame on me. _Goodnight_," and she tugged again, harder this time.

Outside the room, somebody laughed. Sakura suspected from the pitch that it was Tenten. "Doing it again will make it stop hurting," she said loudly from the doorway.

Sakura eyed her. The other woman didn't actually look much better off than Sakura was, sleepy and blurry-eyed. She heaved a giant sigh.

"You'd better not be lying," she growled, unzipping the side of her sleeping bag with great reluctance.

"That's the spirit!" Boomed Gai-sensei.

"I need to get changed," she responded sulkily, and he flashed her another bright smile and a thumbs up before leaving her to dress in peace.

Putting on her clothes was an exercise in agony. Tying her shoelaces required that she bend down, forcing all her muscles to contract and expand, something they didn't seem to enjoy much.

"Come on," said Tenten sympathetically as she staggered out the door. "Once you warm the muscles up it won't hurt nearly as much."

"Aren't you meant to have a rest day?" Sakura asked pathetically, descending down the dojo steps to the footpath with wincing steps.

"Sure," Tenten agreed. "Rest day is very important. Today is not that day. Come on, it's just a little run," she tugged on her arm, forcing Sakura to move or fall over, despite her screaming muscles. It _burned_.

Sakura swore at her.

Tenten laughed.

That morning Tenten kept pace with her, letting the others go for their regular jog, which was significantly faster. Once again, they stopped and went back to a walk after every five minutes of jogging, and started up again once Sakura began to feel like her pulse wasn't trying to leap out her throat.

It was true that as soon as she'd been jogging for a few minutes her muscles loosened and relaxed a little, but it was a terrible trade off. Her heart thundered, her feet hurt, she sweated. Her stomach was heavy and her mouth was dry and her eyes felt sandpapery.

She supposed she could just stop - stop running and refuse to move another step, be content with her sweat-slick skin and her heaving breath. Every time she thought she was going to do exactly that, Tenten managed to change her mind somehow.

"Just another minute and then we can walk again, okay?" she'd say, grinning over and keeping pace easily while Sakura staggered along with all the poise and grace of a bear emerging from hibernation.

And Sakura would think that another minute wasn't that long, of course she could do another minute. And then she would.

"This really isn't that bad, you know," Tenten said, stretching her arms above her head during one of their walking periods.

Sakura, covered in sweat, heart thundering and hair stuck to her neck, glowered at her.

"No, I mean... a lot of people couldn't start where you are. Some people start in two minute intervals. Or thirty second intervals, if they're really bad. You're doing okay." She gave her an encouraging smile.

Sakura tried to feel like she wasn't being patronised, but Tenten hadn't even broken a sweat yet. "Okay," she said shortly. She was so out of breath she could barely manage that.

When they returned to the dojo, however, Sakura had to admit - from her position laying on her back in the store room, blinking tiredly at the ceiling as her sweat stuck her to the floor - that she did feel a little bit accomplished. Exhausted, but accomplished.

Exercise was good for her, right? And she'd done a hell of a lot of it.

Well, for her. From the sounds outside the store room, Lee and Gai-sensei were already hard at work with their own regimen, which involved working hard for many hours a day. Tenten and Neji seemed more moderate, but not by much.

With a groan, Sakura rolled to her feet and went to shower, find some clothes and get ready for class.

* * *

Where Kabuto-sensei's classes were informative, well-structured and dry and Shizune-sensei's were tricky and really forced people to think, Tsunade-sama's first class held the attention of every student. She was almost hypnotic.

She started by standing the front of the lecture hall looking like she was thoroughly prepared to be disappointed with them all. On the hour, she held up one hand for silence.

She got it.

"Clinical skills are all the skills that exist in the interaction between doctor and patient, which make up about a quarter of your mark for your entire course," she said in her hard, flat voice. "What do you think is the most important thing a doctor does in clinical practice?"

There was silence.

She sighed. "You," she pointed, picking apparently at random. "Answer me."

The young woman flinched under the weight of Tsunade-sama's gaze. "Er... make sure the patient understands what's going on?" she suggested. "Telling them about the nature of their problem and that... sort of thing?"

"Not quite." Tsunade pursed her lips. "You," she pointed again, this time several rows higher up.

"Er... patient confidentiality?"

Her eyebrows rose. "Interesting. How about you?"

"Professional indemnity insurance?" said her next victim with a cynical expression. A few people laughed.

Tsunade's expression changed to a small, frosty smile. The laughter stopped abruptly.

"No? Nobody?" she looked around, but nobody was game to actually try to answer. Finally, she brought one hand up and levelled it at Sakura. "You. What do you think is the most important thing a doctor does?"

Sakura blinked. "...Examining the patient?" she said hesitantly.

"Close." Tsunade-sama's smile warmed, just a fraction. "Haruno is half-right," she nodded. "The most important things you will do with patients is take a history and examine them with your own hands," she said in a ringing voice.

The hall was silent. Somebody shifted, paper rustled. It sounded very loud.

"The medical interview has a very important purpose. At its most basic, a doctor wants to know some - many - things about a patient, and the patient wants their physician to understand their problem. Executing an efficient and thorough medical interview is a skill."

And now everybody was listening, watching her raptly.

"It is a skill you will learn, starting now." There was no room for complaint or contradiction in her tone.

Sakura listened in silence, but she could feel her heart rate kick up every time her teacher's gaze fell upon her. She had the feeling that Tsunade-sama was not a woman to be crossed.

For all that she was terrifying, her lecture was fantastic. She had a fierce command of her audience, and silence reigned every time she paused for breath. She was clear about her expectations, and equally clear that those students who did not meet them would not last long in her course.

Some of Sakura's other teachers were... less helpful.

Mostly just one of them.

Most of the students left twenty five minutes into Kakashi-sensei's lecture, because he hadn't shown up yet.

It was Sakura's last class for the day, and she tossed up whether or not she ought to leave for a few minutes. But the classroom was mostly silent, filled with students who barely knew each other fiddling with phones or laptops, so she took the opportunity to do some reading for Tsunade-sama's next class - if she was going to be picking on random students, Sakura wanted to have at least some of the answers.

An hour later, a man appeared in the doorway, although he wasn't Kakashi-sensei. He had a mop of soft-looking brown hair, a hard face and strange, staring eyes. He looked at the twenty or so students still remaining in the lecture theatre, heaved a sigh, and turned to the front of the room.

There, he rolled up the white screen used to display images from the projector, revealing the whiteboard beneath.

Then he glanced at a scrap of notepaper in his hand, heaved another huge sigh and began to write.

Sakura stopped reading her textbook and propped her chin in her hand, watching the words take shape.

"A doctor must be ready to face any new situation as it arises," the text on the board read. "Explain the importance of rest days in preventing burnout."

The man paused, looked down at the note again, and then drew a henohenomoheji under the phrase.

Then he turned to the class. "Your attention, please," he said. The group had been waiting for so long that they went quiet almost immediately. "I'm Yamato, a postgraduate student under the... supervision of Hatake Kakashi-sensei," he introduced himself with a short bow. "Kakashi-sensei will be unable to make it to class today. Please complete the assignment and then leave whenever you're ready."

And then he turned and walked out.

Sakura eyed the board, frowning.

That might have been fine, except fifteen minutes later Sakura saw Kakashi-sensei sitting in a tree on the university grounds, reading and throwing twigs at Yamato's head when he tried to get the older man's attention.

She shouldered her bag more firmly and walked up to stand next to the postgrad student. "Yamato-senpai," she said, eyeing Kakashi in his tree, "is he always like this?"

He turned his mournful, staring eyes on her. "Sometimes he's worse," he said.

"A...ah," she said. "Is there an attendance requirement for his class?"

"Yes," Yamato said. "Eighty percent."

Eighty percent, Sakura thought with a flash of irritation. "How does he still have a job?"

A twig hit her in the shoulder. "He can hear you, Student-san," Kakashi called down. He was still wearing that stupid scarf over his mouth, coupled today with an eyepatch. He looked like a scruffy highwayman, or maybe some kind of pirate.

He slid down from the tree in a shower of leaves and twigs, none of which seemed to get stuck in his hair, although Sakura could already feel a warning tickle at the back of her throat. She really needed to start carrying allergy medication everywhere.

He pocketed his book - which had a luridly bright cover with a man chasing after a lady on the front - and leaned down to eye-level with her. His visible eye crinkled into a little smile. "Also, he has tenure."

Sakura gaped at him, speechless.

He patted her on the head and then shoved his hand into his pocket. "Have a good rest day, Student-san!" he called, waving over one shoulder as he walked away.

He was probably lucky he was already walking away, because this was when a surge of rage rolled through her and the urge to beat his face in almost overwhelmed Sakura.

"Ah! Kakashi-senpai!" Yamato darted after him, trailing twigs and paper.

Sakura glowered at the retreating pair. Yamato seemed to sense her ire, because he kept looking warily over his shoulder at her.

Kakashi-sensei. That lazy _ass_. How did he end up in a permanent position at one of the best universities in the world? Muttering darkly to herself, Sakura stormed off toward the bus stop.

* * *

From: The Great Uzumaki Naruto, King of Ramen  
Timestamp: 2:58 PM  
Message body: I MADE THE NOODLES TODAY. Shishou said they were good enough for customers! I'm on my way to becoming a ramen MASTER, Sakura-chan!

Sakura snorted. Well, at least that meant that poor old Teuchi-san was one step closer to retiring.

To: The Great Uzumaki Naruto, King of Ramen  
Timestamp: 3:02 PM  
Message body: Good work! Got a pic? I'm moving into my new place today. Wish me luck.

From: The Great Uzumaki Naruto, King of Ramen  
Timestamp: 3:02 PM  
Message body: Ne, ne, where are you moving to?

From: The Great Uzumaki Naruto, King of Ramen  
Timestamp: 3:03 PM  
Message body: Can I come visit?

From: The Great Uzumaki Naruto, King of Ramen  
Timestamp: 3:03 PM  
Message body: Are your new housemates creepers? DO YOU WANT ME TO BEAT THEM UP FOR YOU, SAKURA-CHAN?

From: The Great Uzumaki Naruto, King of Ramen  
Timestamp: 3:04 PM  
Message body: SAKURA-CHAN WHY AREN'T YOU ANSWERING MY MESSAGES?

To: The Great Uzumaki Naruto, King of Ramen  
Timestamp: 3:09 PM  
Message body: I AM TRYING TO MOVE HOUSE GO AWAY.

* * *

When Sakura finally dragged herself and her packed suitcase and backpack all the way to her new home, her legs were screaming again. She cursed Gai-sensei and Tenten - and even Lee and Neji, because they were too enthusiastic and_ a jerk_, respectively - with every step.

She hauled herself up the steps with a series of thuds and smacked the palm of her hand on the black-painted wood three times.

There was a noise from inside, the quick thud of footsteps, and then the door swung open. It revealed a man who was barely five foot three, doll-like and pale with heavy-lidded eyes and careless auburn hair. He was dressed in dark jeans and an oversize t-shirt that had seen better days and was then in the process of slipping off one shoulder. His hands were stained with some kind of black grease.

"Haruno Sakura?" His face gave away absolutely nothing.

"Sasori-san, was it?" she said carefully. Deidara had said either Kakuzu or Sasori would be home, so unless Kakuzu had shrunk by the better part of a foot in her absence, this had to be Sasori.

He nodded silently and held the door open. She pulled her things inside after her and then heaved a sigh. "Was there a key for me?" she inquired.

"Kakuzu has it," he said in a voice that was older than he looked. "You should go ask him." Then he trailed off down the hallway, leaving her alone in the dim entrance with her things.

"Friendly," she muttered.

Then she began the laborious process of getting her suitcase up two flights of stairs. Once she had dumped her case in the broad, empty room reserved for her, she returned to the first floor. There she paused to catch her breath and stretch her aching legs.

She knocked on the door she thought was Kakuzu's. He was about as communicative as he had been the previous day, directing her back downstairs to the kitchen with as few words as possible.

"Here," he said, handing over a transfer of bond form and a form for her addition to the rental agreement.

They looked pretty standard: no weird clauses, no nasty surprises. "You're allowed pets," she said with her eyebrows rising. "That's unexpected."

"No," said Kakuzu, who had his back turned to her, leaning against the old sink. "You're not."

"I don't have any pets," she said exasperatedly, signing the bond transfer form with a flourish. "I just meant that I'm surprised that it's on the form, Kakuzu-san. Most places seem like they have a clause against that."

"Are you done?"

She eyed him. "Fine," she agreed, and quickly scanned and initialled all the pages on the rental agreement before signing her name off at the bottom.

Kakuzu snatched it off her, lightning-fast. "I'll make you a copy," he said in his low, flat voice, and the paper disappeared somewhere on his person.

Then came a terrifying five minutes during which Kakuzu sat across from her, stared at her with his cat-green eyes and rattled off all the information she could possibly need about payment details, when payments should be made, and other minutia of their living arrangement.

"When bills come in, I divvy them up," he said flatly. "If you have any complaints about which proportion of the bills are paid by whom, you can take them up with me. I trust there will be no problems," he said in a tone indicating that there had _better_ be no problems.

"As long as it's fair, Kakuzu-san," she said in a level voice, "there will be no problems."

He looked at her unblinkingly for a second, and then nodded. "Good. Your key," he said, dropping it on the table in front of her with a sharp noise.

She took it and deftly attached it to her key ring.

"I expect a copy of your bank transfer confirmation by the end of the week," he said on his way out of the kitchen.

Sakura pursed her lips, wondering if she shouldn't just tell him that her payment details would be between her and their agent - but after a second she decided against it, and let her silence be construed as consent.

To: The Great Uzumaki Naruto, King of Ramen  
Timestamp: 6:13 PM  
Message body: Of course you can visit, stupid. It's three hours away, so make sure you plan ahead. Actually, you can bring me my bed from storage... since you're coming anyway. :)

From: The Great Uzumaki Naruto, King of Ramen  
Timestamp: 6:18 PM  
Message body: Whaaaaat? Sakura-chan, that's not fair.

To: The Great Uzumaki Naruto, King of Ramen  
Timestamp: 6:19 PM  
Message body: I'll notify the storage manager. ;)

* * *

In hindsight, she would realise that it had all happened very quickly, and that her housemates' haste was very much on purpose. One day she was virtually homeless, and the next she was signed onto a lease for a year with three people she'd just met and one she was completely unfamiliar with.

It had all been rather carefully manipulated to avoid her meeting with Hidan until _after_ the papers were signed.

But at three o'clock in the morning when Sakura was woken by what sounded like a person screaming in utter, abject terror, she had no idea what was going on.

She jerked awake and stumbled out of her sleeping bag. Was somebody hurt? Injured? She staggered blearily into the hallway, where one of the lights was still on. The screaming was coming from the room just a door down - not Deidara's. This was the room of the housemate she hadn't met yet.

Sakura paused, wondering if she should really barge in. Her heart pounded. Would she need to use her first aid skills? What if it was really bad? She should have brought a first aid kit - or at least her phone.

She reached out and knocked, but she was only answered by another blood-curdling scream.

That was it. It sounded like somebody was being _murdered_. She shoved open the door.

A startled squawk cut through the screaming. "What the _fuck_ -?"

Sakura saw a flash of naked white skin, ropy muscles, pale hair and strange reddish eyes - and then everything was obscured when about a hundred and ten kilograms of frightened, bleeding goat slammed into her.

"Shit!" Sakura pinwheeled her arms, flailing wildly as she went down beneath a terrifying ball of screaming, flying hair and hooves and horns.

The goat stomped on her hand once, hard enough that she shrieked, and then staggered to its hooves, shook itself, and careened down the hallway.

"Fuck! Don't let it _go_, you stupid bitch!" Bellowed the naked and rather bloody man, leaping over her prone form - she closed her eyes, there was - there were _parts_ dangling and bouncing, there really were - and sprinting down the corridor after the goat.

She rolled, wide-eyed, just in time to see the bloody naked crazy man tackle the screaming goat in the middle of the corridor. There was a terrible clatter as they both went down, followed by some really creative swearing.

From downstairs there was a thump, and Sakura winced. That sounded like either Kakuzu or Sasori was awake. Although how anybody could sleep through _that_, she had no idea.

"Fuck!" shrieked the naked man, waving one bleeding hand. "You fucking piece of shit!"

The goat screamed again, flailing its hooves under his weight.

Deidara's door slammed open, ricocheting against the wall, and he stalked out. "WHAT THE HELL, HIDAN?"

"Fucking bitch ruined my sacrifice! Don't just lay there!" he yelled back over his shoulder at Sakura. "Get your dumb ass over here and help me hold the fucker down!"

Deidara looked between them and the goat. "It's too early for this shit, yeah." He rolled his eyes and stalked back into his bedroom, slamming the door after him.

Sakura rolled to her feet and inched closer. "Just hold his fucking back legs, would you?" the pale - naked! - man yelled to her.

That seemed okay, she decided. She could probably do that. The goat wasn't what you'd call a small animal, but it wasn't really horse-sized either. She grabbed hold of one hoof - her hand ached as though - oh, as though a goat had trampled it, perhaps - but she managed to catch the other one in her other hand, and she held on for dear life as the animal thrashed.

Somehow, the naked man had managed to wrestle the goat into submission. He began beating its head against the wooden floor with a THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, pausing only occasionally to see if it was still screaming.

Eventually, it wasn't.

Then it was just Sakura in her pyjamas, the naked and bleeding man, and an unconscious goat.

The man sighed in something like relief. "Guess the ritual's not entirely ruined, after all," he said, standing up.

Sakura clutched harder at the goat's hooves and averted her eyes. She was on the floor and he was standing up, and there was a penis _right there_, right at eye level.

She cringed.

"Are you going to let go any time soon?" he wondered. Something poked her in the forehead.

She jerked her eyes up, bypassing the dangly bits entirely. But they were still there. They were so there.

"For fuck's sake, are you broken?" He poked her again.

"WHY ARE YOU NAKED?" she shrieked, covering her eyes.

He started to laugh. His laughter continued for some time, edging into this strange high cackle like a rusty hinge. "This ritual's gotta be done naked," he managed finally, between shrieks of mirth. "Come on," he added, disengaging her hands from the goat and dragging it by one hoof. He had to have been very strong to manage that.

The limp, hairy body moved sluggishly past Sakura where she was still sitting on the floor with her legs sprawled awkwardly. She could feel the living heat of it, see its ribs move as it breathed.

"Are you coming or not?" he yelled over his shoulder, pausing at the door of his room. "You interrupted the ritual, so you're a part of it now. Don't make me fucking drag you, too." He pulled the goat in.

Sakura sat there, blinking. It was_ three am_. How was this her life?

About thirty seconds later, she could hear the padding of naked feet on the floor. "Up we get," he said, shoving his hands under her arms and hauling her to her feet. She'd been right, he was strong.

"I don't -" she wriggled.

"Oh, no," he said, wrapping one lean-muscled, white arm around her waist and lifting her up entirely, "you're not fucking going anywhere. You barged in like a fucking retard and you can make it up to me."

She could feel the whole naked length of him pressed against her back and she wanted to either die or just combust out of sheer mortification.

Don't think about the penis. _Don't think about the penis._

She was thinking about the penis.

Her face was on _fire_.

His room was huge - bigger than hers, even. It had seen better days, walls cracked and floors stained, and in one corner was a huge bed. Seriously huge. It looked soft and decadent and about four hundred per cent more comfortable than Sakura's sleeping bag on the ground.

But dominating the whole space was the bloody giant symbol in the middle of the floor: a circle framing a triangle. And inside that triangle lay the unconscious goat.

The naked man kicked the door shut behind him and pushed, prodded and manhandled her over toward the goat. "Sit," he said brusquely, shoving her toward the goat.

"Are you some kind of psychopath?" she wondered in a tone that sounded astonishingly detached, even to her, looking around the room.

"I'm a man of god," he corrected her loftily.

"You're naked and bleeding," she said, still feeling a little bit shocked by the whole ordeal.

"Yep," he agreed. He passed her a long-bladed knife, hilt first. "Hold this."

Well, at least he wasn't cutting her with it. She held onto the handle.

He wrapped his hands around hers - bloody, slick hands, warm and rough from working with his hands - and she tensed against him as she realised what he was about to do. "Oh my god, no," she hissed, but he was much stronger than her.

There was some monstrous-sounding language rolling off his tongue, syllables that her brain couldn't quite hold onto, liquid and despairing and strangely sweet. She didn't understand a word of it and certainly couldn't have repeated any, and she flinched violently when the sharp blade bit into the meat of the goat's neck.

The words went on.

The naked dude was shaking now, all of his limbs alive with a fine trembling, his face flushed high across the cheekbones. Blood spurted and spread in a puddle, bright red where it first hit the outside air.

Staring at where her hands were struggling against his, she could see exactly the moment when he became way too interested in the proceedings and his penis twitched to life. Mortified, Sakura looked straight back up - and into his face, where his lips were wet and parted, his pupils huge and dark.

There was hot blood seeping down her legs, soaking into her pyjamas. His voice dropped and roughened when he met her gaze over the bloody goat. She was caught up in the soft, hot liquid noises of whatever language he was speaking.

Oh, this was so incredibly wrong.

His voice stopped. His eyes rolled into the back of his skull, and the next noise he made wasn't a word at all, it was just a soft ecstatic sound, like he'd found the best thing ever and he wanted more of it.

Heat prickled up her spine. She could feel her nipples stiffen under her shirt.

No. Nope, nope, nope. She _yanked_.

Bloody, his grip slipped, and her hands came loose. She stumbled to her feet, backing away from him and his weird dead goat fetish, and he looked up at her and smiled, wide and not very sane.

She fled. "Have a nice night, babe," he purred in a heavy, sleepy voice that carried after her, and she slammed his door.

Sakura went back to her room, closed and locked the door, and stripped naked from her bloodied clothing. There was blood on her skin - blood in her hair - and she quickly put her clothes back on and went across the corridor into the bathroom.

There she took a shower for half an hour.

"Oh my god," she muttered to her toes and the steam. "Oh my_ god_." Then, "I just killed a goat?" It came out sounding like a question.

She scrubbed her hands through her hair until the water ran clean and she finally stopped shaking.

Sakura suspected she'd made a terrible mistake.

* * *

**Author's Note**: Oh dear. I really don't know what happened there. One moment I was writing Hidan naked with a goat and then the next suddenly he was scarring Sakura for life. Er. Sorry.

**Responses to reviewers: **

I'm not absolutely sure, but I think **Rawr** might like Itachi. I'm sorry, **Rawr-san**, you just weren't quite clear enough. (I am sorry that he wasn't in this chapter, except in spirit.

**Firerosemon**, I'll see what I can do re: more Sasuke and Naruto. Not much this chapter, but I wrote the text message scene between Sakura and Naruto because of your review. :)

Don't worry, **DanceAnna** - she'll get a little less shy soon. I think her recent crazy experience with Hidan will be kind of a catalyst for that. ; )

**Analelle**, I think this chapter answered your question. But yes. Yes, she was. : P

Annnd a thank you to **vvanderlust**, **Sidereum Nocte**, **Fors, 24kk, Shadowlove'scookies, LadyJadyeHatake** and **La Nuit Noire** for your very kind comments. :)

**Lastly: **Unfortunately my computer has progressed from giving me USB driver errors for no reason (least of all my USB drivers, to my continued concern) to giving me blue screens of doom citing something about motherboard errors. Being as it's a laptop I can't just go out and get a new motherboard, so if I drop off the face of the planet, it's probably because my motherboard went belly up or my hard drive stopped spinning or something equally dire. To which I say: bollocks. BOLLOCKS.

**Comments, questions, etc., are welcome and perhaps even hoped for. Additionally, I have a question for those brave people who might review this story:** if you had to choose to room with any of the Naruto characters, who would you choose and why? : D


	5. Chapter 5

**This installment:** Sakura has a weird conversation with her neighbour, kind of accidentally does drugs, isn't quite sure whether she regrets inciting some violence and uses the phrase 'made me sacrifice a goat,' with alarming frequency. Also there is a pretty satisfying cup of coffee.

* * *

It was nearly four in the morning when Sakura left the bathroom, wrapped in her fluffy blue towel and finally feeling clean. Everything was dark and still in the corridor. There was no indication that only an hour ago a frightened goat had been chased by a madman across this very floor.

It seemed like some crazy figment of her imagination, a thing that could not possibly be real. She glanced toward Deidara's door, wondering if he was still up. There was no light leaking out from around the edges, so probably not. That was a pity: she could have used the company.

At some point between the day before yesterday and right that second, Deidara had begun to seem more comforting than weird and crazy. Probably because the other people in the house were taciturn and unfriendly, or...

She wondered if her other housemate had gone to bed still covered in dried goat's blood.

She wondered what he was going to do with the _goat_.

Because presumably there was a dead goat somewhere here.

She went into her room, closed and locked the door behind her, and hung up her towel before pulling on some clean clothes. She'd found a bucket in which to soak her pyjamas but she kind of suspected they'd be a write off. Blood could be pretty hard to get out of fabric.

Unsurprisingly, Sakura couldn't sleep. She tiptoed out onto her balcony and sat down in the cool night air, fiddling with her phone. She wanted to text somebody, to come out and say 'so my housemate just made me kill a goat,' just to have said it aloud - metaphorically aloud, put out into the ether somewhere, just to communicate with another person who could reassure her that this was, indeed, fucked up - but she wasn't sure who she'd tell.

Ino or Naruto would flip out. Sasuke... Naruto seemed to answer ninety per cent of his texts, so there was a good chance Naruto would find out if she texted him, too.

And that was it for her closest friends.

Tenten or Lee would probably want her to return straight to the dojo.

Her mother was right out.

Itachi...

No, these were his friends. She shouldn't text him complaining about them when he'd been the one to warn her that she might not enjoy living with them.

Although honestly maybe he could have been a little clearer about his warning.

At no point did he mention _anything_ about sacrificing a goat.

She stared contemplatively at her neighbour's balcony garden, blinking back the burning feeling of too little sleep from her eyes. Among the plants was what looked in the moonlight to be a broad pot of poppies, and one large, upright plant with bell-shaped, purple-green flowers and glossy black berries that seemed to smell faintly sweet.

It was really quite pretty.

"You're up very late."

Sakura jumped and looked around wildly.

There was a very soft laugh, one that seemed to come from everywhere all at once and hung in the air. The person's voice was soft and polite. A shadow detached itself from where it had been hugging the wall on the neighbouring balcony.

There was the silky whisper of an clothing. Her neighbour moved very gracefully to lean on the ledge of the balcony, cradling a steaming cup.

"Were you party to all that noise earlier?" the person asked. It was impossible to determine a facial expression in the dark.

"I'm sorry," she said wearily. "It was very unexpected. Did we wake you?" Sakura really didn't know if the person was male or female, and she didn't really want to accidentally use the wrong form of address, so she tried to just... avoid it.

"No," her neighbour waved one hand. In the brief flash of a silhouette it was a nice hand: long, deft fingers, beautifully tapered, broad palms. The skin was very dark. It didn't bring Sakura any closer to determining the person's correct pronouns, though. She was leaning toward male, but she wasn't sure. "It sounded dramatic for your first night in a new house."

"My... oh," she blinked, realising that whoever this person was, she or he knew that Sakura had moved in only that day. She tried to shrug off the feeling that this was creepy - this person lived right next door and had probably seen her dragging her things inside.

"He made me kill a goat," she blurted. "I think he really liked it. Like, _really_ liked it."

She heard her neighbour's tongue click in disapproval. "That's a strange hobby," said the voice.

Her neighbour leaned forward, and in a strip of moonlight she saw a very pale, harsh face, strangely coloured - one side seemed to sink more deeply into the shadows. She wondered if he had some kind of rare pigment disorder... but his face was definitely a man's.

She decided to just ignore his strange appearance because there was basically nothing weird enough to top what her night had already been like. "I have no way to relate to whatever just happened in there," she admitted aloud, tucking some hair behind her ear.

She wiggled her bare toes, staring at them. Her skin looked pretty pale, drained of all colour by the silvery moonlight.

He made a noise that was somewhere between sympathetic and darkly amused. "Perhaps you should look at it this way: killing is the way of things for humans. Don't you eat meat?"

"Well, yes," she said, shrugging. Then she shook her head. "It's not that the goat is dead," she said slowly, thinking it through herself, "it's that he got off on it."

There was a long, considering pause.

"The practices of Hidan-san's religion are sometimes... alien," he said, quiet and polite and not entirely certain-sounding.

"It's insane," she muttered. Then she scrubbed her eyes with her hands, willing away their burning. This would be her second night in a row of sleeping only a few hours. She felt exhausted. "Sorry," she said around a sudden, jaw-cracking yawn. "I'm really tired, but I don't think I can sleep."

Her neighbour tilted his head. His eyes glinted yellow under the moon. "Here," he said after a long moment's pause, holding out his tea cup. "This tea will help you sleep. I take it for myself on bad nights."

She glanced at the steaming cup, and then back at her locked door. It wasn't like anybody could come in if she did happen to fall asleep. And sleep... would be comforting.

In general, she thought, taking random drinks from strangers wasn't necessarily a good idea. But he'd already had it out there, and it wasn't like he'd been expecting four am company - if _he_ was going to drink it, it couldn't be that bad for her, surely?

And it would be nice to sleep and just... think about all this in the morning.

"What's in it?" she asked carefully, accepting the cup from his outstretched hand. This one was paler than the hand she'd seen earlier. She frowned at it. A trick of the light? She shook it off.

"Just a herbal remedy," he said in his strange, soft voice. "A tea I brew myself from these plants here," he added, waving one arm.

"They're very pretty," she said, nodding toward the tall plant with the black berries that she'd been admiring earlier.

Cautiously, she sipped the tea. It tasted bitter, but warm, and it did seem to be sort of soothing.

"That's nightshade," said the man, following her gaze. "You wouldn't necessarily put it in tea," he added drily. Then his voice changed a little and with a slightly unpleasant laugh, he qualified: "Not the tea of anybody you liked, anyway."

She snorted, glancing down at her own tea. It didn't seem to have the same sweetness that came from the big nightshade tree. "So it's poisonous," she said, feeling only a little pang of concern. She didn't really think he'd poison her. He barely knew her. What would be the point?

"Yes and no," he said, sounding contemplative. "It's been used as a pain reliever and a sedative for thousands of years. Even now, some of the extracted alkaloids are used in modern medicine..." his voice trailed off, and when he spoke again it had a harder sound, "But, yes, it is toxic. Most things are, if you have enough of them."

Sakura, feeling kind of floaty and happy, nodded. She sipped her tea, surprised to notice that it was almost finished. His voice was incredibly soothing.

"That guy..." she said, heaving a sigh. It seemed kind of difficult to worry about him, when she was out here on a fine cool night, feeling warm from the bones out, content and hazy. "Maybe I shouldn't have gone in and opened the door," she muttered.

"Why did you?"

"The goat was screaming. It sounded like he was being hurt. I thought he might need help," she said slowly. Her tongue felt heavy.

Her neighbour just laughed. This one was a startled, raspy sound - less teasing and more cynical. "You should have left him. The happy endurance of extreme pain is one of the core tenets of of his religion. It's ridiculous."

"That's disturbing," she mumbled.

"The cycle of sin and suffering and redemption is prevalent in many religions. Jashinism just mixes up the order a little. Religion's all a bit silly, anyway," he added more gently, stroking a leaf of his nightshade plant reverently. "You can hardly expect it to make sense."

A disgusted sound rumbled from his throat, and then he clicked his tongue chidingly.

She sighed heavily. He was probably right. Maybe this would be less disturbing in the daylight, after she'd gotten some sleep.

Abruptly, she found her neighbour holding out one of those strange, bell-shaped flowers to her. "They say that nightshade only blooms in the dark," he said conversationally, watching her with hooded golden eyes.

"Does it?" she asked drowsily, taking the flower. It was faintly scented. Sweet. She inhaled.

His lips twisted, highlighted by the unkind shadows of the moon. He looked like some pale, hard-faced ghost peering out of the darkness at her. "No. But it does like shade. And it's very poetic, isn't it?"

He reached out to her again, long fingers looking black in the moonlight. "I think you'd better go to bed now."

It took her almost five seconds of blank staring before processed the thought and put the cup back in his hand. She did not give him back the flower. It was nice. "Thank you. I don't know what's in that tea, but it..." she blinked once, slowly, and lost time somewhere.

Distantly she could hear him laughing his soft sweet laugh. Teasing, yes, and kind of smug - like he knew something she didn't. "Go to bed," he said, more firmly, retreating from the railing of his balcony until the shadows swallowed him.

The leaves of the nightshade plant shuddered gently in the breeze.

She staggered inside, feeling calm and exhausted, and slumped on top of her sleeping bag. She didn't have the energy to make it all the way under the covers.

* * *

When she woke again, it was to a cool breeze and midmorning sunlight streaming through the door, sprawled across her sleeping bag, which was stuck to her face with drool.

She squinted at nothing, feeling hazy and lethargic.

Tea, she thought, blinking. "What the hell was in that tea?" she muttered, fingers scrabbling across the wooden floor for her phone. It was 10 AM, which meant that she had already more or less missed the first class of the day, which was an 8 AM start. If she left now, she might -maybe, if the public transport gods were kind - get there in time for the last half hour.

She groaned, burying her face in the cushiony softness of her sleeping bag.

Dammit.

She felt too lazy and heavy to go get her laptop, so she looked her timetable up on her phone. This morning's was Shizune-sensei's class, so as long as she caught up on the material, there probably wouldn't be a problem. Probably.

She dropped the phone to her sleeping bag and sat up, rubbing her hands through her hair and over her face.

"Herbal remedy, my _butt_," she muttered, thinking back to her surreal conversation with her neighbour. She had no doubt that whatever he'd given her was, in fact, made of some kind of herb or flower - but then, so were a lot of things. A lot of illegal things.

Maybe she should have paid more attention to whatever her neighbour was growing on his balcony.

She groaned. Her next class wasn't for hours. She had intended to spend the time in between classes in the university library, writing out notes for Kabuto-sensei's next class, which was something about Mendelian inheritance.

She unlocked her door and staggered downstairs, hoping that she'd be able to avoid Crazy Goat Sacrifice Naked Man of God on her way.

She hadn't remembered to buy herself any groceries yet, and she doubted that any of her new housemates would be okay with her stealing theirs, but water was a thing she could have. She fumbled around for a glass, discovered that there were no glasses despite the relative cleanliness of the kitchen, and grabbed a mug instead.

"Use the red one, yeah? Sasori-senpai's possessive."

Sakura blinked. She hadn't even noticed Deidara perched on the table, watching her over a steaming cup of coffee. He wore rumpled well, with messy hair and heavy eyes and a sleepy little smile.

Of course, messy hair on Deidara looked like the kind of "mess" that might take a person with lesser hair several hours and about seven different products to achieve.

Sakura had absolutely no doubt he'd rolled out of bed looking like that.

Obediently she grabbed the red mug, which was actually a bright red ceramic owl with a cup-shaped hold in its head. She peered at it. "Is that yours? That's so cute."

"I made it," Deidara said, lips pulling back from his teeth. "There's a couple of them laying around here... the kiln didn't fire evenly so I couldn't use them for my project," he shrugged.

It didn't seem too bad to her - there were a few hairline cracks, but when she filled it up with water it didn't leak. "It's still pretty good," she pointed out, examining it. The owl looked kind of angry.

He shrugged indifferently. "Shouldn't you be at school?"

She yawned widely, leaning against the sink. "I overslept," she admitted. Then she gave him a very unhappy look. "When we were talking about why it was so cheap to live here and you said there was nothing wrong, you sure didn't bring up how your other housemate gets off on killing animals."

"Well, of course not, yeah," Deidara said, raising his eyebrows. "I said there was nothing wrong with the _house_. You didn't ask about Hidan." He snorted. "If I didn't have work to finish, I might have the time to begin listing all the things wrong with _Hidan_."

Sakura thought this was probably a fair statement, but it didn't help her any. "It was implied in the question," she growled darkly.

"Should have been more specific, yeah," he said, grinning at her over the cup. "Now you're stuck with us."

"Deidara-san," she said flatly, "he carried me to his room and shoved me into his creepy blood circle and sat there - _naked_ - and held onto me and he _made me kill a goat_."

Deidara's smile faded. "Aw, hell," he muttered. "I didn't think he'd actually drag you off to do that stupid ritual with him. That idiot." He ran one hand through his hair, which tumbled smoothly away from his face.

"Who's an idiot?"

They both looked up as Kakuzu entered the kitchen. He was dressed from neck to toe in dark colours once again, despite the nice weather. Sakura thought maybe the scars on his face weren't the only ones. She moved aside when he approached the sink, watching him fill the bottom segment of a tiny percolator with cold water.

"Hidan, yeah," said Deidara immediately. "He made Sakura-san kill a goat."

Kakuzu paused, brow furrowing, and then seemed to shake it off. He grunted and continued to make his coffee.

One of Deidara's eyebrows twitched. He looked annoyed for a second, and then he seemed to think better of it. Sakura watched, just a little fascinated, as his lips curved into a tiny, wicked smile. "I was just telling her that if she _really_ wanted to move out, the paperwork wouldn't be put in by the bond board yet. She could still get it stopped and _get her money back_, yeah. Couldn't she, Kakuzu?"

Kakuzu looked at Deidara with a heavy, pissed off gaze. Then he looked back at Sakura. "Is that so," he said slowly.

Deidara winked at her from the side of his face that Kakuzu couldn't see.

"Well," she said slowly, looking uncertainly between them. "I don't mind the rest of you, but I didn't really... expect..." she trailed off.

Kakuzu glowered. He had a really scary glare, one that made Sakura clutch her owl mug a little tighter.

"That idiot," said Kakuzu darkly, putting his percolator down half-filled. "Stay there," he barked at Sakura, and then stormed out of the kitchen.

Kakuzu-san, Sakura thought, listening to the house complain subtly as his feet hammered up the stairs, didn't have a lot of social skills.

This thought was confirmed when she heard something go _thump_ on the second floor so hard she could feel the vibration under her feet. She looked at Deidara with wide eyes.

He grinned cheerfully. "Don't worry Sakura-san," he said cheerfully, talking over another thump and ignoring the way the light fixture swung in sympathy with the house's ominous shuddering. "Hidan's an idiot. We'll get it sorted out. We have to take care of our new housemate or she might run away, yeah?"

Somewhere far above them, glass shattered. She slowly raised her gaze to the ceiling.

There was some indistinct howling, interspersed with another crash and some more heavy-sounding thumps.

Deidara's smile didn't dim. If anything, he looked somehow more satisfied.

Sakura stared down at her water, wincing with every noise. Amidst the sounds of raised voices, she made out the phrases "interrupted my ritual," "fuck your rent," and, after a moment, the sudden shriek of: "Let go of me, you psychopath!"

None of this seemed to go down very well with Kakuzu, if the ongoing crashes and thuds were any indication. Sakura strained to hear him, but the rumble of his voice was too deep to carry the way Hidan's did as it soared into an enraged shriek.

There was a sudden silence.

That was ...ominous.

Kakuzu reappeared a few minutes later. His hands were stained bloody, and there was an ugly gash across one side of his face. His breath was coming only a little faster. He fixed Sakura with his unblinking gaze.

"It won't happen again," he said in a voice that sounded calm, even and very final.

There was a pause.

Deidara started to whistle a cheerful tune.

"You'll stay here," said Kakuzu in the same tone.

"Right," said Sakura blankly. "Yes." She was operating on automatic, washing out her cup and popping it upside down to drain. "Well, I'm off. Have a good day, Kakuzu-san, Deidara-kun."

And then since she couldn't stay there and think at the same time, she picked up her bag and fled.

* * *

She almost literally ran into Itachi when she was lining up to order a takeaway coffee. Distracted by her own thoughts, she stepped up further than the line had moved and managed to bump into his shoulder.

"You," she said flatly when he turned to look at the rude person who'd walked into him.

For the first time she didn't feel completely overwhelmed by the sheer physicality of the man. Some terribly sarcastic corner of Sakura's mind suggested that this was probably a side-effect of sacrificing a goat with a naked stranger.

"Sakura-san," he said, soft-voiced and polite as ever. "Are you well?"

"No," she said flatly. "Actually I'm not."

She clenched her jaw and stared hard at him. Looking at him, you'd never know he'd been party to a terrible plot by fate to _confine her with lunatics_. Fate, Itachi and apparently Deidara. She'd never stood a chance, she thought grimly.

"At no point," she said, jabbing him in the chest with her forefinger - it was a solid chest, just enough give to suggest muscle, and she wasn't thinking about that_ at all, not right now, shut up, no_ - "at no point," she growled, trying to keep herself on track, "did you mention that any of your friends might make me _sacrifice a goat_."

He blinked once, slowly. Without looking he caught up her hand and lowered it from where it was trembling with how hard she was poking his sternum. He did not let go. His hands were warmer than hers.

There was a moment of angry tension.

"...Hidan," he said finally, loosening his grip.

She deflated almost immediately. "Pretty much," she said. Except her mind flashed straight in on the image of Kakuzu casually wiping blood off his knuckles with a tea towel. "Maybe not just Hidan," she muttered.

"I did tell you you might not like it there," he pointed out.

"I know. And I ignored you. And that's my fault. But Itachi-san? If you had said 'they're all maladapted lunatics and you might be required to sacrifice a goat in your pyjamas and your next door neighbour grows drugs,' I'd probably have paid more attention."

"...duly noted," he murmured.

"You're still holding onto my hand," she said blankly after a second.

He looked down.

He released her.

Sakura really had to stop speaking before thinking.

"Hey," said the lady at the register impatiently, "are you ordering a coffee or not?"

"Come on," Itachi said, sounding oddly stiff. "It seems like I probably owe you a coffee."

"At _least_," she said threateningly. She knew she wouldn't be able to keep it up for long, so she'd better express herself while she was still feeling cranky. Between his gentle manners and his ridiculous good looks, Itachi was almost too attractive be allowed - honestly, Sakura suspected that her ability to withstand actual, verbal conversation with him without looking like an idiot or a freak with a skin disorder was pretty much directly proportional to her anger.

They grabbed their coffees in paper cups to go and moved away from the throng of students in the union building together in silence. Outside the doors they had to run the reeking gauntlet of slouched, smoking teachers and students, none of whom seemed to be capable of throwing their butts away, but then they were free on one of the green lawns in the mild afternoon sun.

"In my defence," Itachi said after a moment, "I haven't lived with Hidan before. I didn't realise he was quite so... overzealous in his religious dedication."

Sakura flushed darkly, thinking of exactly how much zeal he'd shown. She wanted to bury her face in her knees in sheer mortification.

"Sakura-san?" Itachi had evidently noticed something in her expression. Surely, she thought, he must be used to her lighting up like a stop sign in his presence.

"It's nothing," she muttered quickly. And, dammit, she'd been right: the more she calmed down, the more Itachi made her feel fluttery and hypoglycemic.

"Hmm," he said without much commitment. "If you have problems with Hidan, it's usually best to ask Kakuzu to fix it, although he'll probably charge you for the privilege," he said pensively after a few seconds.

"Yeah, that sort of happened already," she admitted. Then Sakura explained the morning's events to Itachi then, rubbing the lid of her cup thoughtfully. "I wonder if he's all right?"

"Hidan?" Itachi's eyebrows rose a fraction. "I'm sure he is," he said, sounding utterly unconcerned.

"I feel like I should be more worried," she admitted after a second, "but I also feel like he's kind of a jerk and I don't care how hurt he gets," she added bitterly.

"That's the spirit," said Itachi, with no inflection at all, and she smiled helplessly.

It was all pretty messed up, she supposed, but sitting there and feeling the radiating heat of Itachi sitting so close, never quite touching - well, it could probably have been worse.

* * *

**Author's note:** One: Zetsu is weird and hard. Two: I dislike this chapter, which is annoying because I promised myself this would be a story I wouldn't care about so I could just get it out of my idiot system. Three: Yeah, she totally just said it 'could have been worse'. Whatever hits the fan will not be distributed evenly.

Longish responses to reviews, because people left me with things to say. Sorry. I know nobody really likes reading long author's notes!

I am in fact not a med student, **Rawr-san**~ I am a lowly arts student, studying criminology and English literature. (I will soon be fully qualified to ask if you'd like fries with your purchase. Joy.) I think Konan would be the world's best wingwoman because she's so unflappable. I think she'd stick valiantly to the Ho Code only so long as your 'All of them. At the same time,' doesn't extend to Pein/Nagato, though. If that happens, all bets are off. : D

**Poppy Grave Dreams**, I am certain that rooming with Ino would require less bleach and scrubbing than rooming with Hidan. Canon also suggests that she's an excellent hair stylist. Totally a wise decision. : )

**AkumasFate!** Fair comment, it may have been a trifle overdone. Thank you for your feedback; I appreciate an additional perspective. What Hidan did is not illegal in a lot of places - cutting a livestock animal's throat deeply and relatively quickly is usually accepted as a humane method of slaughter. In some places you'd probably need a license, and in others I know you can only kill animals you've raised yourself. But for the most part, laws exist against unnecessarily cruel forms of slaughter, not killing the animal itself. So... MAYBE it was legal, depending on where they are.

Wow, I never even considered Chouji. But now that I have I think that is an excellent idea. He seems like he'd cook well and be pretty laid back... but then also I think you might end up doing all the housework. Perhaps he and **Analelle** can just live in filth together? : P

**Firerosemon** may have been more or less correct. : P

Thank you to **La Nuit Noire**, **Wickedgrl123** and **Shadowlove'scookies** for your kind reviews.

**telekinesis1728**, wow, I didn't even remember Sasori was in the last chapter until you mentioned him in your review! He's here for a grand total of like 10 words. I do want to play around more with him, though. Canon Sasori is a perfect balance of adorable and awful, so he could definitely be fun. :)

**Trivia**: Initially, Orochimaru was going to be Sakura's balcony neighbour. He's actually my favourite character. : 0

**Another question for reviewers**, since I found I actually kind of really liked doing that last time: what would your chakra nature be? : D


	6. Chapter 6

In which Sakura learns a little about Itachi's relationship with his brother, takes a remedial sex ed class, inhales chemical irritants and has a job interview.

* * *

Aside from being easy on the eyes - so, _so_ easy on the eyes - Itachi was actually not bad company. He was a little too insightful, and Sakura had an annoying suspicion that he was just as smart as she was. That wasn't an experience she was really used to and she wasn't quite sure she liked it. But the fact remained that he _was_ clever, and even if he never seemed to smile, sometimes she thought she could detect a softening in his face, something that loosened around his jaw. It was enough.

He was a little bit quiet, however; not unfriendly like his little brother, but - not forthcoming, a little reserved. Aloof, perhaps.

She reflected on this as they sat on the grass outside the student centre. The sunlight was warm but the air was cool, and the grounds weren't as full as they would have been in the full heat of summer.

"Sasuke never mentioned you," she said thoughtfully after a while, sipping her coffee. "I mean, not to say that he talks about anything very often, but we've known each other for years. Usually a brother is the sort of thing you find out about."

Itachi looked at her, a little too intently, but his expression didn't shift. There was a pause so long that Sakura began to feel terribly uncomfortable.

She was on the verge of apologising and waving it away when he finally responded to her implied question. "I have a... difficult relationship with my family," he said at last. It was a vague and rather diplomatic way to answer the question, and there was nothing in his voice to suggest what 'difficult' might mean. "My brother is very attached to our father."

Sakura puzzled through the implications of that comment. "Fugaku-san wasn't at Sasuke's graduation," she said after a second's silence.

Itachi's eyes met hers for a second, and then shifted away. "I'm sure he would have been, had he not been working," he said evenly.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have brought it up."

"I don't mind." He shook his head. "I could have refused to answer if I'd wanted to," he said.

She nodded, but she shifted the conversation away from family and back to classes. Itachi was a law student, and seemed to spend an awful lot of his time studying. Since medicine was also a notoriously burdensome course of study, she got the impression that she was hearing about a slice of her own future when he talked about it.

"We can't all be art students, I suppose," she sighed, thinking of how many hours a week she was likely to end up studying by her final year. Deidara seemed to have it a lot easier. Even if he worked hard on his projects, he was at least surrounded by things that were fun and interesting - or so it seemed to her.

"Some art students would probably say that we can't all be on a scholarship," Itachi said blandly, cutting his eyes toward her over his coffee.

"How did you even know about that?" she asked incredulously.

He gave her an enigmatic look and did not answer.

Well, that was frustrating. And mysterious. And interesting. It meant he was paying more attention to information about her than she'd thought he was. She bit her lip and felt her face heat.

Their break was over quickly, and both of them had to head to class - him to a lecture on property law, and her rather reluctantly to a class with Kakashi-sensei.

"Given the time you've spent with my brother and Uzumaki, I doubt you have a problem with casual violence," Itachi murmured, "but with Hidan and Kakuzu and Sasori... and Deidara, too, try not to take them too seriously."

Sakura nodded, thinking that was probably sound counsel. "I'll do my best, Itachi-san."

He paused, shouldering his bag, and looked about to say something for a second. Then he straightened his spine, said goodbye, and left.

She wondered what he'd been about to say.

She wondered probably too much.

And probably too long.

And probably _really unrealistically_.

"Idiot," she muttered to herself. She needed to stop tormenting herself about Itachi, or she was going to drive herself crazy.

Or turn into Ino.

There was probably some overlap between those consequences, if she thought about it.

She attended a very strange class supervised by a yawning Kakashi-sensei. This was supposedly a class where they learned to 'impart information simply and clearly,' but it seemed to Sakura like a remedial sex ed class in disguise for those med students who hadn't received a very good highschool education on the matter.

Kakashi-sensei mostly sat on his desk at the front of their tutorial classroom, looking around at them sleepily, and barely seemed involved in the coursework at all. His long-suffering postgraduate student, Yamato, was waiting in front of the door with his arms crossed, staring intently at Kakshi-sensei.

Sakura had the distinct impression that her teacher wasn't going to get out of the classroom alive without signing whatever papers were in Yamato-senpai's hand over there. The prospect didn't seem to perturb him much.

While initially Sakura thought a class on something they'd all clearly learned in high school was a complete and strange waste of time, she found herself to be the person with the most expertise in the group she was assigned to.

The second time she found herself gingerly explaining the theoretical use of a condom to a classmate, she revised her opinion on the class, awkward and embarrassing as it was.

"It was weird," she admitted to Deidara rather pensively that evening. She had still not managed to go grocery shopping, so she was heating the kettle to make instant noodles she'd picked up from the corner store. Naruto would have been so proud.

"Mmm?" Deidara mumbled, not really listening as he sifted through some kind of ground up... something.

"It was kind of an eye opener, I guess?" she shrugged, leaning closer to see what it was that was taking up so much of his attention.

"Don't breathe that in, yeah," he cautioned vaguely, wrestling with his scales for a second.

Sakura took a wary step back. "What are you doing, anyway? Is that some kind of explosive?"

"Nah. Sasori-senpai gets angry when I mix explosives in the kitchen," Deidara said, shaking his head.

Sakura tried to imagine Sasori being angry about anything. She struggled. He didn't seem to have enough feelings to be angry.

"This is feldspar," he pointed. "It's not going to kill you, but it's not good to breathe in. I should probably be wearing gloves," he added thoughtfully - an idea that he continued to ignore after mentioning it.

"What's it for?" she asked curiously.

"A glaze, yeah. Lithium carbonate, barium carbonate, silica - and some other stuff - and then cobalt and copper for colour..." he scratched the back of his head, apparently heedless that his fingers were covered in the pale powdered feldspar. "There's probably another colourant I could use, but it's an experiment."

"I had no idea ceramics involved so much chemistry," said Sakura, a little stunned.

He grinned at her. "What, you thought art students were all just dumb stoners? Not like those clever medical students, hmm?"

"Of course not," said Sakura defensively. Then she paused, because if she thought in stereotypes they _were_ kind of along those lines. She cleared her throat, ignoring his knowing look. "Actually I have no idea what an art student does."

Deidara raised one eyebrow, blue eyes flicking in her direction briefly. "Art, yeah."

"Thank you for that clarification," she said drily, but not without humour.

"What were you saying, anyway? About - class?" He measured out one last powder and balanced it on his scales, scrunching up his nose for a second before adjusting the amount.

Sakura picked up her sad little bowl of instant ramen, peeling back its cover and testing their readiness. It smelled like artificial flavours and looked uninspiring. With a sigh, she stabbed her fork into the noodles.

"Um, just that... we had this like, remedial sex ed class today,"

"_Remedial_?" he repeated, blinking up at her. There was laughter in his voice.

She frowned. "Yeah, that's what I thought," she said, waving her tiny plastic fork at him, "I think it was probably for, you know, the people who went to crazy religious high schools or something? I got stuck in this group with two girls who didn't even understand the physical mechanics of -" she looked sideways at him. Maybe that was a little inappropriate. "Well, anyway. I was just surprised, it was like suddenly I was the most knowledgeable person or something."

Deidara's eyes lifted from his powders and colourants, wide and glittering. "Really, Sakura-san?" he asked innocently. "And are you so very knowledgeable on the topic?" He fluttered his eyelashes.

"Ugh!" She threw her fork at him. "Not like that!" she yelled, face suddenly flaming.

He caught the little plastic thing out of the air, surprisingly deft. "Hey, hey! No food in the chemicals, yeah. You'll ruin the glaze."

She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest, ramen forgotten. She looked away from him.

"Sakura-san," he said, leaning closer to her. He was almost her height, and eye contact was kind of hard to avoid. She sniffed and ignored him.

He poked her with the fork. "Sakura-saaaan," he drawled, poking gently but incessantly.

She finally turned back to him, if only to snatch her fork back. It had powdery finger prints on it.

"I shouldn't be surprised that you'd be more worried about food in the chemicals than chemicals in the food," she sighed, throwing it away and going to fetch a metal fork from the drawer. "And yet."

"A lot of the stuff I use is toxic," he shrugged. "We're all going to die - but I'm going to die young and beautiful," he shook his hair back from his face, smiling like the thought pleased him.

Sakura wasn't sure what to say to that, but it turned out not to matter because Sasori shuffled into the room, blank-faced and ignoring both of them, and he captured her attention.

This evening he was dressed in a grease-stained tank top and horribly stained jeans with the knees missing, and smelled a lot like hot metal. He discovered the kettle was still quite hot, grunted agreeably, and made himself a cup of instant coffee so thick it looked like sludge.

His expression didn't change when he noticed Deidara at the table. "If that blows up..." he said in a deceptively bland voice.

"Hai, hai, Sasori-senpai," Deidara waved him off. "It's just a new glaze."

Sasori peered more closely at the ingredients. "A new shade of blue," he identified after a second, much to Sakura's surprise. From the powdered ingredients, it was pretty hard to tell what colour it would turn out. "Why bother?" he asked flatly. "You're only going to blow it up."

"And when I do," said Deidara in a sharp voice, "it will be beautiful."

Sasori remained unmoved. "Idiocy," he said, looking cynical. Cynical seemed to be one of the few expressions Sasori was actually capable of.

"Art," Deidara corrected loftily.

Sasori snorted. He took a deep gulp of his coffee. From the faint traces of disgust on his face, Sakura suspected it tasted terrible. He opened his mouth, eyed Deidara, and closed it again. "Who's buying dinner this week?" he asked instead.

"Hidan," said Deidara.

"Buying dinner?" Sakura echoed, puzzled.

Sasori glanced at her like he'd just realised she was a person instead of a talkative kind of furniture in the room. "On Monday nights somebody buys dinner and we eat together."

She felt her eyebrows rise. "Really?" Of them all, basically only Deidara seemed like the sort of person who enjoyed other people's company - and even then, he was probably happy enough to be left alone, too.

"It's so Kakuzu can yell at whoever hasn't paid his part of the bills, yeah," Deidara said, mixing some kind of liquid into his bucket and pulling a discoloured, filthy-looking balloon whisk out from somewhere to mix it all.

_That_ made more sense. Sakura nodded. "I guess I'll end up on the roster for that, too, huh?"

"You will," said Sasori.

"Can you cook?" Deidara asked curiously.

"Yeah," she said. "I mean, nothing fancy. But I can cook well enough to get by. I like making sweet things best, though," she admitted, smiling a little.

"We," declared Deidara, suddenly smiling widely at her - widely and a little wickedly, like all his best smiles - slinging one dusty arm over her shoulder and drawing her into a too-tight, one-armed hug, "are going to get along just fine, Sakura-san."

Sakura could smell chemicals and sweat and something soapy on his skin and shampoo in his hair - and some terrible, life-ruiningly good, masculine smell that was underneath all of that. Pressed up against her side he was all hard planes and lean muscle and terribly, terribly warm.

"I didn't say I'd make any for _you_," she pointed out, squirming away.

"That's cold, Sakura-san," he said, shooting her one wounded look before letting her go easily and returning his attention to his glaze like she wasn't blushing madly.

Sasori examined them with critical eyes, like the meaning of their interaction puzzled or disturbed him. Then he picked up his mug and left the kitchen without so much as a word.

Sasori did not seem to have a lot of social skills, either.

She wondered how this house sharing arrangement would turn out in the long term, sighed, and settled in to finish her noodles.

* * *

To: PIG  
Timestamp: 9:05 PM  
Message body: Any news on Flute Girl?

From: PIG  
Timestamp: 7:12 AM  
Message body: Poor thing's lost her flute. I have it on good authority that somebody will steal that hideous purple thing next.

From: PIG  
Timestamp: 7:13 AM  
Message body: And burn it.

* * *

Finding a job was, at the very least, less of a trial than finding a house. Her endless emails and phone calls and begging people she half-knew to keep an eye out for viable positions eventually landed her with a couple of interviews, one of which was scheduled for Friday morning, just after nine.

On Friday morning, Sakura was woken by somebody rapping urgently on the glass. _Outside her second floor window._

She rolled over, noticing that the sun had barely risen, and...

...and even in the predawn half-light, she would recognise that bowl cut. "What the _hell_?" she snapped, stumbling out of her sleeping bag to heave open the door.

"Sakura-san!" Lee yelled, beaming at her from only a few inches away. His teeth gleamed and his eyebrows were very, uh, there.

Just past him, Gai-sensei was crouched on the railing of her balcony. Tenten was perched next to him, smiling enigmatically and kicking her legs.

"No," said Sakura flatly. "Whatever you want, _no_. I have a job interview in -" dammit "- in _four hours_, oh my god, it's five am! No!" And then she tried to close her balcony door in his face.

Looking sincerely apologetic, Lee wormed himself inside before she could shut it fully. "Excuse me, Sakura-san," he said, leaving the door wide open for everybody else.

Gai-sensei took the opportunity to stride inside, where it was much too early for the reflection bouncing off his hair and teeth. "We thought that you made such a good start on your journey through the passions of youth during your stay at the Nekketsu Dojo that we simply had to come here and invite you on our morning run," he said, beaming at her.

Lee and Gai-sensei bowed and looked extremely serious. "Please come with us!"

Tenten leaned against the doorframe, smiling like she was thrilled to see somebody who _wasn't_ herself on the receiving end of such treatment.

There was a silence. Sakura stared at them all. "How did you get up to my BALCONY?" she demanded.

Lee's eyebrows furrowed, which looked sort of like an interpretive dance executed by concerned caterpillars on his face. "We climbed," he said, as though it was obvious.

Well, obviously. But that didn't quite answer the question Sakura really wanted to ask, but didn't know quite how to phrase. She sputtered.

About six minutes later she found herself being escorted through the front door and onto the footpath, where she found Neji waiting and evidently trying to look as though he was unfamiliar with the strange, bespandexed group who'd climbed into her bedroom.

"Hi," she said flatly, glowering over Lee's head as he tied her sneakers, into which her feet had been forcefully jammed. He tied them on _tightly_.

"Hello," said Neji, in a voice that was terribly calm.

And then, worst of all, they made her run.

"You didn't consider, I don't know, _texting_?" she said to Tenten when they slipped into a walking interval.

"I considered it," she shrugged. "But I thought you probably wouldn't come."

"So instead you organised an _ambush_?"

"No, of course not," said Tentent placidly, glancing at her watch and breaking into a trot. She took an iron grip on Sakura's wrist to persuade her along. "Lee organised the ambush."

Sakura made a noise a little like a kettle boiling over, but then she was running again and she didn't have the breath to waste.

Tenten, she was beginning to suspect, was actually just as crazy as the rest of the dojo. She was just a lot more subtle about it.

By the time they returned it was six in the morning, the sky was finally light, and Sakura was covered in sweat. Gai-sensei, Lee and Neji had allowed them to catch up during their cool-down walk, stretching and moving on the spot until Tenten and Sakura managed to get there, so they approached Sakura's new house as a group.

Kakuzu, with a bag slung over his shoulder, paused between the door and the footpath. Sakura could see his eyes flick from Gai-sensei to Lee to her, then back to Gai-sensei and Lee. And then back to their eyebrows, in particular.

His expression showed nothing.

"Good morning," said Sakura tiredly, leaning on a fence post. Their fence was in dire need of repainting and the lack of sealant was probably going to land her with some splinters but she did not care. Her legs were jelly. She wanted to die.

"We will leave you to your youthful housemates, Sakura-san!" Gai-sensei yelled, probably waking half the street. "Good luck with your job interview!"

And then he beamed, brightly, and shot a fairly disturbing thumbs-up at Kakuzu. He took Lee with him at a dramatic sprint. Tenten patted Sakura on the shoulder before ambling away, shoulder to shoulder with Neji.

Kakuzu watched after them, face impassive. He turned back to Sakura.

"Please," panted Sakura, holding up one forestalling hand. "Don't ask." She heaved herself away from the supporting fence to return to the interior of the house.

"I hope your job interview goes well," Kakuzu said, remarkably politely, as she passed him.

She eyed him.

"Your savings won't last forever," he elaborated.

"Ah," she said. At least with Kakuzu, you never had to worry about his motives. They always led back to one place.

He continued on to wherever he was going, and Sakura went and flopped sideways across her sleeping bag - until she realised her sweat was making a disgusting wet patch, at which point she went to shower.

* * *

At a quarter to nine, Sakura checked the GPS on her phone one last time and rounded the corner of a fairly dubious-looking alley. Her job interview was at a cafe, and from its location she sort of assumed it was mostly frequented by university students - the kind who had enough money to buy coffee that actually tasted like coffee, just off campus.

Since it was so close to Senjuu University - although tucked away in a disreputable alley - it could be a good position for Sakura.

She turned another corner, looked up, and found it.

TRIVIA was a cafe in the same way a '69 Beetle is technically still a car. It had two rough walls propped against the ancient and crumbling bricks of the neighbouring building, and a rusted sliding door out onto the footpath. The chairs were made of rescued milk crates with bright but mismatched cushions nailed to their tops. It wasn't precisely clear to Sakura whether or not the pennyfarthing leaning by the door was part of the decor, or if it actually belonged to one of the patrons.

The second Sakura stepped inside her face was attacked by a hanging paper crane. The ceiling was high, and origami animals and flowers hung from fishing wire at all different heights. Despite being odd and mismatched, the clutter was strangely cheerful.

The whole place smelled of coffee grounds. At nine o'clock it was only sparsely populated, mostly with a couple of university staff members and a few haggard-looking students, who were clearly in thesis hell.

Sakura approached the lone staff member standing behind the coffee machine, feeling a little nervous.

The man behind the coffee machine had hair died a bright, burnt orange colour and enough metal in his face to thoroughly confound an MRI machine. The face itself, once you stopped looking at all the distracting metal, was pretty nice too, in a kind of hard-edged, high-cheekboned way. She watched him for a second while he folded take-away containers, watching the movement in his forearms and the deftness of his fingers.

She could see the wisdom of hiring somebody who looked like that at a cafe so close to a university. He was worth a crush or two.

He was also a potential workmate, so she would probably be better off not oogling him too much.

"Excuse me," she said to him quietly. When he looked up, his eyes were pale and had strange dark bands in the irises, which Sakura wondered about. Perhaps some kind of cosmetic contacts? "Is Konan-san available?"

His strange eyes didn't leave her, but he tilted his head sideways. a little. "Konan," he said over his shoulder, raising his voice only a little.

A blue head of hair popped out from some little nook around the corner. "Ah, Sakura-san?" she enquired. "You're a little early, do you mind waiting a few minutes?"

"Not at all," Sakura nodded and offered a little bow. She settled herself on a milk crate to wait, watching the barista's movements as she did.

"You're here for a job?" he said after a few moments. He didn't look up, but he obviously knew she was watching him.

"Yeah," she agreed. "Hopefully."

He nodded. "Here," he said, and dumped some of the flattened cardboard boxes in front of her. "You might as well be useful while you wait. We're short-handed."

He showed her once how to fold all the flaps and tabs into place to make them into takeaway containers, and then left her to it. It took her two minutes to do the first one, but by the time Konan reappeared she was almost as quick as he was.

"Put those aside for the moment," she said, and Sakura did so, neatly stacking her completed boxes next to the unfinished ones.

Konan wasn't so much beautiful as expertly put together. She was poised and elegant and constructed expertly, from her dark clothing to her perfectly-dyed hair, to her nails which somehow remained painted and unchipped despite her occupation. She was serene and placid and she looked at Sakura with amber eyes that seemed to see straight through her.

Sakura swallowed.

What followed was one of the strangest job interviews Sakura had ever been party to. Nobody asked her what her previous job had been. There was no question of what her major weaknesses or strengths were. They didn't even ask her if she had any experience.

Konan asked her a series of questions that seemed completely irrelevant. What was her favourite colour? Did she like animals? How was she liking her studies at Senjuu? What was her favourite book?

Sakura was a bit taken aback.

"Do you have a favourite television show?"

"I don't think we even have a television," Sakura said blankly, brows furrowing.

"Hmm. Do you have any hobbies?"

"Sometimes it seems like studying is my hobby," Sakura admitted. "I recently took up running, though," she added, since it sounded good and it was basically true.

Konan nodded. "That's nice. What about creative skills? Are you artistic?"

"I... used to do some flower arranging," Sakura said slowly, thinking of her middle-school years with Ino in the school's burgeoning flower-arranging club. It wasn't a great success. "And handicrafts," she added. "Although I don't have a lot of time for that now, it would be nice to do it again..."

Konan's lips curved into a very faint smile, which transformed her face from a work of carefully-prepared art into something genuinely breathtaking. There were traces of a very great beauty in there, somewhere. "How do you think this interview is going, Sakura-san?" she asked.

What was she meant to say to that? Oh, no. Sakura bit her bottom lip, but she'd already been silent too long and she needed to _say something_. "It's... not what I expected," she admitted.

"What were you expecting?"

"Oh, well... you know, questions about managing conflict, and what my strengths and weaknesses are and - and if I have a criminal record," she said. "Things like that," she finished lamely.

"Do you have a criminal record?" Konan asked seriously.

"No, of course not."

"Hmm. Pity," she said, and then went on rapidly. "Well, do you think you could come in for training at six o'clock on Saturday morning?"

"Training? Tomorrow?"

"Yes, tomorrow."

"Yes. Absolutely. Definitely."

"Excellent. Pein," she said over her shoulder, looking at the redhead behind the coffee machine, "is there anything else we need to ask Sakura-san?"

"I don't think so." He shook his head, and resumed expertly pouring the milk for a latte, which he finished up with a decorative frond on top.

"I think the owner will like you, Sakura-san," said Konan in her calm, steady way. "Just remember to take anything he says with a grain of salt, and leave the actual running of the business to Pein and I."

"The owner?" she asked. "Who's that?"

"Oh, he's usually in on Saturdays. He'll be around, so you'll be able to meet him." Konan escorted her back to the door, weaving around the dangling origami as she went. "You have my phone number if you need to be in contact before tomorrow. Have a good day, Sakura-san."

And then Sakura found herself out on the footpath, blinking in the daylight, and not quite sure what had just happened to her.

* * *

To: PIG, The Great Uzumaki Naruto, King of Ramen, U. Sasuke, Tenten  
Timestamp: 9:34 AM  
Message body: Re: job interview. I think I'm employed?

* * *

**Author's notes: **Apparently they do, actually, have a pretty basic sex ed class really early in some medicine courses to account for people who went to abstinence-only education type private schools and so forth. Also, it is inadvisable to try to mix a new glaze in your kitchen, or indeed without gloves and a respirator. Jesus Christ, Deidara. No. Just no.

Also please be advised that my computer is still giving me grief, but since I am a poverty-stricken university student I am just going to have to hope it holds out until I can put that kind of money aside.

**Jujubug12**, at your request: the slightly earlier introduction of Pein and Konan.

Ah, yes, **22snowy**, the very great value of a literature degree. Don't I know it. But at least it's fun and interesting - and it provides a slightly less depressing counterpoint to my other major in criminology (which is also not very employable, I admit).

But **cookie-san**, I already wrote in an inappropriate erection over the ritual slaughter of a goat. What could be more romantic? Why? What do _you_ call flirting?

Thank you to **telekinesis1728**, **La Nuit Noire, **and **la canelle**, who were all very kind with their reviews.

Honestly, **Analelle**, I think if you were willing to hire a maid and have him or her clean up after the both of you, Chouji would be pretty happy to cook. Cooking and feeding people strikes me as something he'd like doing. (But it's something I like doing, so I'm probably biased.) If you had fire-type chakra you could burn down all the things that make you angry~ (No, that's a lie. There's a limitless number of things that are aggravating. So you should just punch them in the face instead because then you don't risk setting the whole world on fire. Facepunching is eternal.) Uh, sorry, Analelle, that got away from me a little.

I think I might be an earth type, personally.

**Another question for my braver reviewers**: who would be the _worst_ character to live with? And why? : D ( You should review, so that I may look upon your commentary and feel excited about writing another chapter. )


	7. Chapter 7

In which Sakura heads to her first shift at work, an art student is punched in the face, emergency services are called, there is wholly gratuitous interpersonal licking, Kakashi is a troll and Itachi is a filthy usurper. Yep.

* * *

Sakura's first shift at TRIVIA was... eventful.

She arrived punctually at six am to discover Pein unstacking the milk crates and wiping the low tables.

She smiled nervously. "Hi," she said.

He looked her up and down with his strange eyes, bade her a good morning, and showed her where she could store her belongings.

After that she was quickly set tasks. The cafe was mopped and the surfaces cleaned and disinfected of an evening, so mostly she ended up setting up tables, refilling salt and sugar dispensers and stocking the glass-fronted display cabinet with foods that had kept overnight. Pein counted up the til and did several arcane things to the coffee machine that Sakura did not entirely understand.

Even at just after six on a Saturday morning, there was a trickle of caffeine deprived customers shuffling in and out.

Konan appeared, like magic, at seven and took her through an itemised list of things she needed to do when opening the shop, gave her a contract, and explained how and when things were cleaned, where they kept a number of important items, and how orders were made and received.

"We don't have a lot of room," Konan explained. It was true: there was no oven, one stove element, and a number of well-used grills and toasters. "Some of the food gets delivered - the sandwiches and wraps and all of the sweets and pastries, but we make the salads and winter soups ourselves. Orders," she added, pointing to a list of phone numbers pinned to the wall, "are made through these people."

Konan, Sakura thought, was probably not a very kind person, but she was patient and calm. She had the knack for explaining things clearly and helpfully, and rarely made Sakura feel uncomfortable.

By the time the trickle of customers turned into a stream, Sakura felt as though she had more or less got a grasp - at least a tenuous sort of grasp - on the rhythm of things at the cafe, which was lucky because that was when the owner strolled in.

"THIS IS A MOMENTOUS OCCASION," he yelled, white tail of hair whipping wildly behind him. His face was open and friendly and his old-fashioned geta caused a loud clatter when he walked. "Everyone," he declared to the cafe at large, beaming brightly, "I'm sorry I've made you wait so long! The latest edition, Icha Icha Tactics, has been released!"

He whipped out a small, green book and displayed it to all of the people he could coax into reluctant eye-contact.

There was a smattering of applause from people Sakura presumed to be regulars - the ones whose orders had been ready almost before they reached the register.

"Uh," said Sakura, sidling nervously toward Konan. "Is he... all right?"

"He's the owner," she said. She was watching him with a look that was simultaneously cynical and indulgent.

"Oh," said Sakura. "I didn't mean to imply anything," she said in a small voice.

Konan did not respond to that. It was probably just as well. "Jiraiya-san," she said in her calm, carrying voice, "we have a new employee."

The man with the trailing white hair spun on his heel to look at Sakura.

Sakura stared back. "It's nice to meet you, Owner-san," she said.

He beamed at her.

It all went a bit downhill from there.

"A little flat," he announced cheerfully, "but not bad. You could be an inspiration, Employee-san," he said, peering at her closely.

She decided that she had no idea what he was talking about, because the alternative would lead to violence, which would almost certainly get her fired.

"I wouldn't volunteer," said Konan softly, turning away to remove somebody's sandwich from the press and set it on a plate.

"I wasn't going to," murmured Sakura, eyeing him warily.

He laughed and introduced himself as Jiraiya, cafe owner and writer extraordinaire. "No surname," he added airily. "I don't need one."

"Like Madonna," said Pein quietly, causing Sakura to choke on a startled laugh. She hadn't really thought Pein had a sense of humour, but there it was.

"Like _Musashi_," Jiraiya countered.

Pein and Konan both paused in what they were doing and looked him up and down.

"I see," murmured Konan, before returning to her task.

"No respect," sighed Jiraiya. "Anyway," he said, leaning on the counter, still clutching his book proudly, "there's a delivery today. Probably around three, but you know how it is."

"Anywhere between two and five," sighed Konan. She shared a look with Pein, whose subtle facial expressions flickered quickly. "Very well," she said after that pause.

Jiraiya nodded. Then he turned back to Sakura. "Are you a student at Senjuu?"

She nodded. "I started studying medicine last week," she said with a smile.

"AH!" he said, suddenly cheerful again. "You must be one of Tsunade's new students," his teeth flashed when he smiled.

"You know Tsunade-sama?" she asked, scooting around the counter to collect dishes from tables as they emptied.

"Tsunade-_sama_?" he laughed, and then launched into the fateful (and terrible) story of how he and her professor had met when he 'accidentally' fell over into her cleavage. Sakura was certainly not the only person listening. Jiraiya was a good story teller, which she supposed was a lucky thing for an author.

"...and so you see, my nose is still a little crooked!" he finished, pointing at it when he caught her eye.

"Wow," said Sakura, pausing in her washing up.

"She's a violent woman," he nodded sagely. "Beautiful, though."

Sakura nodded. "Yeah," she said, thinking about it for a moment while she crushed one milk carton and tossed it in the recycling, replacing it with a new one from the fridge for Pein to use up, "she is, actually."

Sakura kept moving, smiling cheerfully as she put muffins in a box for somebody's office manager, who looked like she was about to have some kind of stress-induced aneurysm.

"Actually," Jiraiya said thoughtfully, leaning heavily on the counter, "Tsunade is the inspiration for a character in my latest novel." He tapped the cover.

Sakura glanced at it. It looked a little... dubious. 'Icha Icha' was a slang phrase denoting, contextually, all sorts of playful romantic interaction, from heavy flirting to making out. The phrase 'Icha Icha Tactics' had seemed to imply some kind of pick up artist's manual, but if it was a novel... She peered more closely.

The blurb seemed to indicate a shameless mixture of trashy adventure and what might be diplomatically termed erotica. There was a picture of some of the other books in the series on the back cover, and somehow they looked familiar. Maybe Naruto had a copy? No, maybe not.

"I think I've seen these before," she said thoughtfully. Jiraiya beamed.

"That's not necessarily something I'd admit in public, Sakura-san," murmured Pein, effortlessly decorating the top of somebody's latte with a butterfly.

"Tell you what," said Jiraiya loudly, over the top of Pein's soft, deep voice, "You can have this one."

Sakura blinked. "I... can?" She wasn't even sure if she _wanted_ it, to be honest. But free was good. She liked free things. Free things were great.

"Sure," Jiraiya said, looking a little sly. "It's an investment on my part," he added, tapping his nose with one finger.

She frowned, stacking the last of the washed cups and drying her hands. "How so?"

He took the tea-towel off her and put the green-covered book in her dry hands. "Think of it as a gateway drug," he said, regarding the book fondly.

Sakura felt her eyebrows rise. "Riiight," she said. Then she examined it. "Well, if it's really that good I should try to wheedle a signature out of you, shouldn't I?" she said thoughtfully.

It didn't take a lot of convincing. Jiraiya seemed absolutely thrilled to have somebody - anybody - ask for his signature, and he wrote a dedication that was illegible but probably very flattering in the front inside cover.

Sakura tucked the book under her coat inside her bag and went back to actually doing work, which was reasonably straightforward once she got into the swing of it. Jiraiya left around twelve thirty, which was when the rush really started to get heavy. Each task was simple, really - the challenge was just to keep up with the stream of people who came in, remember all the things she was meant to be doing, and prioritise so everything got done at the right time. Konan was a great help in that regard, since she had a lot of experience and could direct Sakura at any given moment.

She found it surprisingly enjoyable, although when business began to wind down after lunch time it got a little tedious.

They began packing up at three: machinery cleaned, tables wiped, leftover food put away in the refrigerator if it was good or disposed of if it could no longer be sold (although Sakura was pretty sure Pein was taking a bunch of the stuff they were 'disposing of' home with him), cutlery and crockery washed, floors swept then mopped...

"What temperature is the display case?" Konan asked from where she was checking the grounds for tomorrow.

"Um... five degrees?" Sakura said, eyeing the red display.

"Five?" Pein appeared, swift and somehow soundless, right behind Sakura. She jumped a little. He eyed the display with a subtly irritated expression. "I'll show you how to clean it out," he sighed, and they spent the next twenty minutes discussing the bits and pieces inside the machine that allowed it to keep the food at a health department-approved temperature.

At about a quarter to four, the place was closed and locked, the money counted up, books double-checked, crates on the tables and most of the lights turned out.

"Leave it," sighed Konan, glancing at the clock. "I'll wait for the delivery."

Pein shook his head. "I don't have anywhere to be," he said quietly.

Sakura hovered uncertainly.

"You can leave if you want to, Sakura-san," Konan said with a faint smile. "I think you'll do well here."

Sakura bobbed her head in a quick, slightly nervous bow, and smiled at Konan. And Pein, even, although she still thought he was kind of quiet and weird and just a tiny bit intimidating. "Thank you. It was more fun than I thought," she said, pulling on her coat and grabbing her bag from where she'd tucked it away.

"You'll revise that opinion before the end of the week, I'm sure," murmured Konan. "You said you were available on Tuesday afternoons, Wednesday and Friday mornings and all day on the weekends, yes?"

Sakura nodded. "Yes, that's right."

"We're closed tomorrow, so you can come in at Tuesday at ten past three. Don't be late."

"I won't be," Sakura promised, smiling at the pair.

And then she was free and in the cool afternoon air outside and she felt a little bit relieved at the undeniable security of having some actual income.

* * *

From: Unknown Number  
Timestamp: 5:32 AM  
Message body: Sakura-san, your jogging companions are at the balcony. They're quite disruptive. - Zetsu

Sakura eyed her phone.

Who the hell was Zetsu?

She examined it some more. Was it some kind of nickname for one of her housemates? An auto correct mistake?

She scrolled again.

From: Deidara-kun  
Timestamp: 5:39 AM  
Message body: your friends are really loud, yeah. where the hell are you?

From: Unknown Number  
CC: Princess, Tightass McStitchyface, BabyDoll,  
Timestamp: 6:15 AM  
Message body: who the hell are these assholes passed out on the doorstep, seriously? they're not ours, are they?

From: Unknown Number  
CC: Hidan, Deidara, Sasori  
Timestamp: 6:17 AM  
Message body: No. Ignore them. Haruno, you should save this number. - Kakuzu

From: Unknown Number  
CC: Hidan, Kakuzu, Idiot  
Timestamp: 6:17 AM  
Message body: It is six in the morning on a Saturday. Text me again and they will never find your bodies. -S

Sakura kind of just looked at her phone for a while, standing at the bus stop. After a brief process of elimination, she saved Sasori, Hidan and Kakuzu to her phone. She used their real names, although it was kind of tempting to list Kakuzu under 'Tightass McStitchyface'. The chances that he might pick up her phone at some point were just too high.

She still didn't know who Zetsu was, though.

Or how Lee and Gai-sensei managed to go from making loud noises on her balcony to passed out on their doorstep.

To: Tenten  
Timestamp: 3:53 PM  
Message body: Sorry! Job interview paid off. Was at work. Is everyone okay?

From: Tenten  
Timestamp: 3:55 PM  
Message body: Congrats! Gai-sensei and Lee are confused but in one piece. Neji says your neighbour's crazy?

Sakura frowned at the screen, only half paying attention when she hailed the bus. The person who lived next door had seemed perfectly polite, if a little weird, when they'd spoken that one night...

She wondered if that was Zetsu.

Not that this would explain how he got her phone number, or how he knew who her jogging companions were. Puzzled, she sent a message back.

To: Tenten  
Timestamp: 3:55 PM  
Message body: Neighbour's been okay with me? I think he's an insomniac, maybe they woke him and he was angry?

From: Tenten  
Timestamp: 3:56 PM  
Message body: Pretty sure he drugged them and left them on your doorstep.

Sakura was not quite sure how to respond to that.

Although, given her own experience with her quiet neighbour, it wasn't wholly out of the question.

After a second, she replied.

To: Tenten  
Timestamp: 3:59 PM  
Message body: You need to start texting me if you're going to drag me out of bed to go running.

Privately she thought that Lee and Gai-sensei should just be glad they weren't conscious when they'd met Hidan.

The bus ride was short but boring, and Sakura amused herself by messaging Ino instead of thinking about her weird housemates and crazy neighbour and how maybe she should invest in a serious filter, just in case there really was something in the water.

To: PIG  
Timestamp: 4:05 PM  
Message body: Job: acquired!

From: PIG  
Timestamp: 4:05 PM  
Message body: Sweet! Any hot coworkers? :D

To: PIG  
Timestamp: 4:06 PM  
Message body: 66.7% hot, 33.3% average, so far.

From: PIG  
Timestamp: 4:06 PM  
Message body: Niiice. Pix or it didn't happen.

To: PIG  
Timestamp: 4:09 PM  
Message body: I'll take a photograph when I know them well enough not to feel like a creeper asking for a picture.

From: PIG  
Timestamp: 4:09 PM  
Message body: Hmm. I'll allow it. For now.

* * *

Kakuzu was in the kitchen when she got home, nose buried in a copy of the International Trade and Business Law Review while he waited for his coffee to percolate.

"Sorry about this morning," she said breezily, setting her bag down and digging out the owl-shaped mug she'd appropriated from Deidara. "I didn't think they'd just show up on my balcony again." Although she probably _should_ have expected it in hindsight, since they'd done it once.

"They seemed to expect you to be here," said Kakuzu, glancing at her over the edge of his journal. He had very sharp eyes.

"If they'd contacted me before hand at all," she said tartly, "I might have been able to let them know otherwise." She set the kettle to boiling and dug out her little box of tea. She hadn't brought much with her and she _really_ needed to go grocery shopping. But she'd been busy.

She contemplated going this evening, but she was tired and there was enough instant ramen for a few more nights...

Nah.

"Hey," she said after a second, over the noise of the electric kettle slowly heating up. "Is Zetsu the guy next door?"

Kakuzu grunted in a generally affirmative kind of way. "He doesn't like being woken up," he said.

"Hmm," said Sakura thoughtfully, but she didn't ask anything more. Idly, she pulled out her phone and saved his phone number. She may as well; he had hers.

* * *

She probably should have studied on Sunday, but the fact was that Sakura spent it reading Icha Icha Tactics.

She regretted nothing.

* * *

Fear of Tsunade-sama dragged her away from her new favourite novel on Monday morning and saw her heading to class, but there was a break in her day between three thirty and five o'clock, which was when she had the dubious honour of class scheduled with Kakashi-sensei.

From: Deidara-kun  
Timestamp: 3:23 PM  
Message body: you have a break now right? come visit me in the fine arts centre

Sakura glanced at her message at half past three when Shizune-sensei finally waved them away. She was half-tempted to text him back and remind him that he actually lived with her and he could not possibly be missing her already.

But she did have a break on Mondays. And she wasn't that far behind on her studying (there was no med student alive who wasn't a _little_ behind on their studying, as far as Sakura could tell). She might as well visit Deidara - at least whatever he was doing was bound to be interesting.

Sakura entered the building, which was full of strange sounds, dramatic variations in temperature and smells that almost immediately made her head throb. There was a map on the wall, buried under an overlapping collage of notices for socialist rallies, bake-sales, rooms to let and one much-graffitied religious advertisement.

After a few moments of squinting, Sakura made her way to the top floor, where she begin to question the wisdom of her decision to visit Deidara when all she could hear was angry yelling.

"...think my work is shitty, then your work is _derivative_ shit, because you copy my work and my work was shit to begin with!" one voice snarled.

There was a crash that made Sakura hesitate in the doorway. She could see Deidara's bag - and shoes, actually - next to the door so she was pretty sure he was in there, but...

"Sketching one of your ugly dolls is hardly copying," said a second voice, cheerfully bland, and Sakura poked her head inside to get a look at the people arguing.

The room was a huge, sprawling mess. At some point, she was sure, it had been clean and bright, and it still bore traces of its past glory: broad windows, huge skylights, an endless expanse of floor. There were huge, mismatched piles of stained drop cloth left haphazardly on the floors. They evidently hadn't been used very well because the bits of floor she could see was covered with spatters of paint and glue and other things she didn't have names for, and it looked as though somebody had sprinkled sand all over pretty much everything below knee-level. There was a huge gouge missing from one wall, filled awkwardly with a smear of cherry-red clay.

In the middle of the room was a grown man dressed in a - a black canvas onesie, it looked like, with cat ears on the hood - and wearing what looked like bright purple war paint. "_Puppets_," he hissed.

"Are you embarrassed about making dolls?" the second person was - next to that one guy - pretty normal looking. Except that he was wearing a midriff top and a pair of ridiculously tight black pants and what she could have sworn were women's shoes - dainty boots to mid-calf with open toes. His skin was very white - whiter, even, than her own. He needed more sun. "Is it better if you call them puppets?"

He had possibly the least sincere smile she'd ever seen on another human being. She could hardly blame Unitard Puppet Boy for being so annoyed with him, because just the look on his face made her want to punch him. Her hand twitched instinctively.

With a deep, deep breath for patience, the guy with the cat ears turned to the doorway. He looked her up and down. "Are you lost?"

"I don't think so," she said slowly. Her eyes flicked to the thing the pair were arguing about: a wooden puppet that Unitard Puppet Boy seemed to be painting. It had recaptured his attention, and now he was mixing colours and muttering about sealing the wood and the right shade of purple for the lips. "Is Deidara-kun here?"

All eyes immediately swung to her.

"_Deidara_?" repeated the man in the weird suit.

"She said 'Deidara-kun'," said the other one, dark eyes narrowing on Sakura with a slightly too intent focus. "The honorific 'kun' used by a girl usually denotes a significant emotional attachment."

"Wow, Sai. You learn that in one of your books on how to act like a human being instead of a pod person?"

"Yes," said the man with the midriff shirt - Sai. Odd name. "It was very informative." He shot his friend another of those terrible smiles.

Sakura clenched her fist.

"You can't be his girlfriend," said the other one, narrowing his eyes.

Sakura felt her own eyebrows rise. Not that she specifically _wanted_ to be Deidara's girlfriend, really, but it annoyed her to have some stranger imply that she _couldn't_ be. Why? What did they think was wrong with her?

"Excuse me?" she said mildly, giving the pair a fixed smile.

The man with the puppet eyed her smile and then backtracked. "I just mean -"

"You're far too ugly for him," said Sai, smiling another giant stupid fake smile at her.

Sakura punched him almost before she knew her hand had moved.

He probably would have been alright with just that, but the surprising force behind her blow made him stagger backward - just a step. A step was enough, and he tripped over a low stool, wobbled for a second and fell into a desk. The desk overturned with a crash, depositing Sai, the stool, the desk and a nearby easel in a pile on the floor.

This all happened in a cacophony of noise and undignified yelping, which left a great silence in its wake.

The man in the cat ears had retreated with his puppet to the other side of the room, but wariness didn't stop him from commenting. "...yeah, I think you're probably single," he said pointedly.

One of Sai's limbs twitched.

Sakura growled.

The crash had drawn some attention, and it was only a few seconds before Deidara's blond head appeared from around the doorjamb.

His eyebrows rose and he came into the room, almost close enough for their shoulders to brush. He examined the damage. "Did you hit Sai?" he looked at her.

Sakura looked between the slowly-moving pile of limbs and desk and easel and - stuff - and Deidara's face. "He said I was ugly," she said defensively, huffing and putting her hands on her hips.

"To be fair," said Unitard Puppet Boy from his far, far away corner, "he said she was too ugly to date _you_."

Deidara laughed, loudly and uproariously, until Sakura's face was glowing with heat. He braced himself on her shoulder to catch his breath, and she didn't push him away.

She should have known that him getting so close had an ulterior motive, but she was still surprised when he leaned in, close enough for his breath to ruffle her hair. "That's hot, yeah," he murmured. It was just low enough for her to hear.

She felt her face get somehow hotter, although she doubted it could get much redder, and shoved him away one-handed, totally failing to hide her smile. "Is that what you're looking for, Deidara-kun?" she asked sweetly. "A girl who'll beat you? That's called masochism, you know."

Being pushed away didn't seem to bother Deidara much, since he grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her closer again. She didn't protest very much. "We-ell..." he said slowly.

Then he froze. "Oh, shit," he said, suddenly wide-eyed, and turned back to the doorway.

"Dei-" Sakura found herself cut off by a panicked yell from one of the rooms down the corridor.

Then there was a strange hiss, followed directly by an almighty noise: the scream of tortured metal, a percussive boom, a clatter and crack of breaking ceramics, the grating sound of breaking glass -

The whole room shuddered. The floor sagged, causing more frightened voices to rise. The far wall cracked and a shower of plaster and metal and - smoke. Black, acrid-smelling smoke spewed into the room, into the corridors, rolling out thick and foul through the building.

It stung Sakura's eyes. Her pulse leapt and her breath shook. "What the hell?" she yelped, grabbing Deidara's arm for stability.

She had no idea what was going on.

"Explosion," he said in a curiously flat voice.

Okay. Well.

Her hands were sweating.

Well, this was all... quite... bad.

"Calm down," she muttered. She took a deep, shuddering breath, mostly of smoke. And then: "Right," she said, scooping up Deidara's bag in one hand and his shoes in the other. "Evacuation time." She shoved him with his own shoes, getting him moving toward the stairs. They had to get out of there while they could still see.

An alarm started to blare, followed by a calm voice over advising students to evacuate the building. Some kind of structural integrity had obviously been damaged, because there were bits of the walls cracking and falling down in the corridor. There was a yell and the sound of breaking glass from another room where the glass of a skylight had fallen in.

Sakura felt detached, calm and very unreal. The world looked like the backdrop to a post-apocalyptic video game.

She propelled Deidara toward the stairs. Whatever else was going on, he didn't seem to be thinking very clearly. His eyes fixed on the mayhem, flickering this way and that, and when she was close enough to see him well through the smoke, she could see his pulse leaping in his throat and the rapid flutter of his eyelids.

Peculiarly, she couldn't tell if he was panicked or just excited.

Sakura and Deidara managed to get to the ground floor just as the stairwell was really beginning to flood with people. The mass exodus of students reminded Sakura of one of the nicer cirlces of hell: panicked, moving bodies, low visibility, shrieking and bellowing. She caught an elbow in the gut and almost fell over.

She shoved Deidara harder, shoving them both out of the building and into the open air.

It was still smoky, but it was markedly more breathable outside.

They spilled out onto one of the big, recreational lawns, where hundreds of students were now milling. Some of them were on their phones, trying to contact the people they'd had plans with. Others were just watching the building.

It was worth a stare or two.

Several of the windows appeared to have been blown out on the top floor, and thick, black smoke was pouring out. More than that, however, whatever reaction had occurred in there had taken parts of the outer wall with it.

"I didn't even get to see it," complained Deidara softly, although he looked kind of... not unhappy, examining the smoke. His face was blackened, though, and his clothing would be a write-off. Sakura glanced down at her own skin, which was in a similar state.

Fantastic.

She handed Deidara's shoes to him silently, still eyeing the building. For all that he'd casually spoken about explosives, she hadn't thought...

"It wasn't actually meant to go off yet," he muttered, sounding a little more appropriate in his sourness. "I'd planned it for on the roof, after dark..."

There were people showing up, fire wardens and campus security, and a voice over recommending evacuation for all buildings connected to the art centre.

"Put your shoes on," she said neutrally.

Deidara glanced down at his feet. Gingerly, he lifted one and pulled a shard of glass from the bottom.

Sakura winced. "Let me see that," she said, gesturing. "I have a first aid certificate," she added when he hesitated.

"It'll keep," he said, tugging his shoes on without even flinching.

"It'll put you in hospital with an infection if you forget to clean it," she said, glancing at the shard he'd discarded. It wasn't huge, but it was big enough. It had to hurt. It was definitely narrow and deep enough to be a problem if he did let it get infected.

"It would have been so beautiful, yeah..." he said dazedly, still staring at the smoke. There was a gleam in his blue eyes that made Sakura suspect he didn't mind this view that much, either.

He opened his mouth to talk again. Sakura put her hand over it. His eyes darted to hers. "Don't talk about it just yet," she said quietly. "Wait until you get home. If anybody asks where you were, you were talking to me, got it?"

He blinked once, slowly, like the idea that blowing up part of his university was an indictable offence hadn't even occurred to him. His lips parted against the palm of her hand. His breath was hot, faintly humid. She pulled her hand away quickly.

"Yeah," he agreed after a moment. "Okay."

A woman in a brightly-coloured vest appeared more or less out of nowhere, carting a first aid kit. Sakura was surprised when she recognised her. It was Shizune.

She checked their breathing, made them wash their eyes out with some clear solution, checked their pupils and questioned them about any other injuries they might have sustained. Deidara avoided mentioning his sliced foot, so Sakura reluctantly followed his lead.

"Okay," Shizune said, sighing, "you can leave. If you have any symptoms like dizziness, difficulty breathing or throwing up, you need to seek medical advice, do you understand?"

They both nodded dutifully, and then she was off again, striding to the next person in the milling crows of displaced art students.

Deidara was distracted, staring at the smoke again. "It didn't work out how I wanted it to, anyway..."

Against her better judgement, Sakura put her hand back over his mouth. "No more," she said urgently, eyes flicking toward a few of the security officers, who were going through the students and asking questions.

Deidara nodded, but she didn't trust him. Maybe it was the shock of the explosion, but he didn't seem to be thinking quite clearly. He was obviously fascinated by the wreck of the building, but rational thought seemed pretty distant.

She didn't move her hand from over his mouth. "Yes?" she prompted cautiously.

His eyes finally moved from the building to her face, locking with her gaze. She could see him taking in her sooty skin, the nervous sweat plastering her hair to her neck, the ugly saline tracks down her cheeks from washing her eyes out.

The sensible thing would have been to step back, or move his head away, or tug her hand down with one of his. He did grab her wrist in a clay-and-smoke stained hand, but it was only to keep it in place while he dragged his tongue over her palm and up her fingers.

Deidara's dazed eyes lit up beneath a spill of soot-stained hair. The look he gave her was challenging.

Sakura swallowed, and kind of wished she'd blushed. Or that she wanted to hit him. Or really for any less awkward response than the one she had.

But there were an awful lot of nerves in her hands, and she could feel every slow, slick millimetre of the path his tongue drew, and _yes_ her heart was racing and _yes_ her blood was definitely moving fast - but it certainly wasn't going to her head. Things low in her stomach tightened. Anxiety and anticipation curled up and purred under her skin.

All the adrenalin and stress from the explosion was suddenly a very different kind of tension, and it didn't even matter that they were in the middle of the lawns and surrounded by other students.

Deidara stared at her with his wildly dilated pupils, face messy and streaked with sweat and smoke and flushed with excitement.

"It's exciting, though, yeah?" he said. His voice was a little lower than she'd been expecting.

She thought he was still talking about the explosion, but she couldn't be sure.

He bit the tip of her finger, carefully, deliberately. His teeth scraped.

Her lips parted involuntarily.

She wanted, so very badly, to tangle her hands in his hair and force him to hold still while she kissed him. She wanted to smell his sweat and taste his skin and figure out how to claw her way inside him. She wanted to _touch_.

A tiny, hungry noise escaped her mouth.

Deidara smiled against the palm of her hand. His grip on her wrist loosened. He didn't need it. She wasn't going anywhere.

"Maa, Student-san, do you really think that the middle of an evacuation is the right time for that sort of behaviour?" Kakashi-sensei's head suddenly loomed up in the space between them.

Sakura leapt back and shrieked, yanking her hand away from Deidara and breaking the connection.

"There won't be any more classes today," Kakashi-sensei went on as though he was discussing the weather.

Sakura dug her nails into her too-sensitive palm. She could still feel where he'd scraped his teeth across the pads of her fingertips. She kind of wanted him to do that to about ninety per cent of her body.

Deidara looked at her with the knowledge of that in his face, with something dark and victorious and smug behind his pretty eyes. She wasn't sure if she liked that.

With towering self-control, she ignored Deidara's gaze and turned to Kakashi-sensei. "The medicine buildings're across the other side of campus," she said, eyeing him.

"Maa... well, we wouldn't want to put students in danger. Professional ethics and all," he said, waving one hand.

"The campus is over two kilometres across!" She snapped. "You can't just _cancel_ class, you're meant to -"

She was cut off by a familiar voice. "_Kakashi-sensei,_" came Yamato-senpai's aggrieved voice from somewhere in the crowd.

Sakura turned to see where he was, spotting his staring gaze in the crowd, but when she turned her gaze back to Kakashi, he was... not there.

"He went that way," said Deidara, pointing. Yamato-senpai nodded and hastened in the direction he indicated.

"Bastard," Sakura muttered, with feeling.

"Well, there's no way I'm gonna be able to get anything done this afternoon, yeah," said Deidara casually, glancing at the smoking building. Whatever mood there had been was clearly over. Sakura was disappointed and relieved in roughly equal measure.

She really didn't understand Deidara. She wanted to jump him, but she sure didn't get him.

He was smiling at her, all rational and innocent again. And if his eyes flickered toward the smoking building more often than they should, well, who could blame him? "Are you going home? I can give you a -"

"No," she cut in. "No, Deidara-kun," she said, apologetically but sincerely. And firmly. "You may definitely _not_ give me a lift."

He shot her a wounded look.

"No," she repeated.

"Didn't you still need to pick up actual groceries?" he asked, tilting his head. He touched his lip with his index finger in an exaggerated 'thinking' pose - but that wasn't what the gesture made her imagine. Sakura eyed that finger. She was a little jealous of it. "Do you really want to carry all that home with you? The back seat of the car's empty..." he grinned, trailing off temptingly.

No, she _didn't_ fancy catching the bus with her groceries. No she didn't want to walk the one and a half kilometers from the bus stop with bags, probably filled with heavy things like canned goods. She eyed him.

He looked so innocent.

Her resolve weakened.

He seemed to sense victory, because his smile gentled playfully and he said, "If you get really scared you can hide your face in my shoulder, yeah. I promise I won't tell anybody."

"Great, because that won't hamper your steering at all," she said sarcastically. But she was thinking about it. Damn her, but she was thinking about it.

"Come on, Sakura-san," he said brightly, "you didn't get hurt last time, did you?"

Well, no, not technically. "I..."

For the second time that day, she was surprised by an unexpected appearance. A hand shot out over her shoulder, dangling a set of keys, which jangled gently.

She squeaked.

It was a nice hand: clean nails, elegant fingers. She followed it back to where Uchiha Itachi was standing, almost tall enough to put his chin on top of her head.

"I'll give you a lift," he said, eyeing Deidara over her shoulder.

"Itachi," Deidara rolled his eyes, "I _live_ with her, yeah. I'm pretty sure it'd be more convenient if I took her home."

"I'm sure it would," Itachi agreed mildly, "but I have a license."

Deidara pouted. "My driving is fine," he said. "My driving is _beautiful_."

"Your driving is unpredictable," corrected Itachi, raising tact and diplomacy to an art form. He glanced down at Sakura. "The law building is attached to the same filtration system as the art centre, so I don't have anything else to do today. It wouldn't be any trouble to pick up some groceries with you and take them back to your place. I need to talk to Sasori-san anyway."

Sakura glanced at him. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." He didn't elaborate.

"Okay," she said, smiling a little.

"Hey!" Deidara squawked.

Sakura felt kind of bad for abandoning him, but Itachi hooked his arm around her shoulders with astonishing familiarity and drew her close as they turned away, and she was pretty much okay with anything just as long as she got to feel the warmth his body gave off right the hell next to her.

That made her feel even worse, because not five minutes ago she'd been letting Deidara nibble her fingertips and she had wanted to drag him down to the grass and wreck him. With her mouth. And her teeth. And probably her fingernails scraping down his bare skin.

She frowned. Why did the world surround her with such horribly attractive men? She couldn't be held responsible for the hormones bouncing around in her bloodstream like exotic drugs, doing terrible things to her brain.

Itachi's arm did feel awfully nice.

She blinked shyly up at him. He had four inches on Deidara, and the difference was quite noticeable. "Did you do that just to annoy Deidara-kun?"

"Mostly to ensure you didn't die," he responded.

"Really?"

"Really," he said gravely.

Her expression was still dubious. "And maybe just a little to annoy Deidara-kun?"

"...maybe," he agreed, not looking at her.

But there was a tiny hint of a smile playing around his mouth. Sakura ducked her head, hiding her own smile.

* * *

**Author's Note: **A slightly longer update this evening just out of love. (My love is not unconditional, but if you keep reviewing, I will keep writing. _Quid pro quo.__) _Also I just want to say: honestly I'm constantly thrown by how short all the Naruto characters really are? I am Pein's height. And I'm really not that tall. So weird.

Anyway, people reviewed! And so I have responses and various thankings because I love reviews and I'm pretty shitty at PMing back at people.

Wow, **Of Healing Love**, that was a long review to type out on an iPad. You are to be commended for your dedication. I think that in light of this chapter your feelings about living with Deidara may have gained more traction. I completely adore him but damn that boy's messed up. I am so, so sorry to you and **Firerosemon** and **Angry Paradox **that the owner was Jiraiya and not Madara. (Although Madara is definitely going to appear. He hasn't cropped up yet but he will. Eventually. Giant adorable creeper, aww.)

**Analelle**, thank you again~ Kisame is definitely in this story - he's Itachi's housemate. I just haven't managed to have him show up yet, urgh. Since my extremely well-planned writing methodology is basically to roll my face on the keyboard until a new chapter appears, predicting these events it somewhat more difficult than I expected. (I agree, I think Jiraiya would be effing terrible to live with. And yet somehow I'd forgive him all the time and end up feeling restless and resentful with no outlet. It would be awful.)

I think that Deidara is probably hands down the most charming of these characters, **La Nuit Noir**, he's totally one of my favourites too. Even when he's being a psychopath he's still fun.

**Telekinesis1728**, yeah, I guess anybody with a past history of murdering everybody he lives with could be considered a poor housemate. It's probably something you'd want to make sure of when interviewing potential housemates.

Thank you to **wickedgrl123, Akatsuki's Kyuubi, jujubug12, Cal-Kitty **and **stranger-in-my-eyes **for your kind and very encouraging reviews.

Next chapter I'm hoping to fit some Naruto and/or Sasuke in again. WE SHALL SEE.


	8. Chapter 8

In which there is a glorious moment of hair-pulling and a shared meal, Pein and Konan are incredible hipsters and a magician pays Sakura a visit.

Also this chapter is occasionally on crack.

* * *

The car Itachi showed her to was an older model, painted a colour between grey and white, with no particular adornments. For a young man's car, it was surprisingly clean. There wasn't even any take-away containers lingering in the foot wells or _anything_.

"You don't mind that I'm covered in," she examined herself, dark-streaked from the smoke, "something?" She didn't really mind being dirty in public - well, not since it wasn't her fault, anyway, and she could put anybody who questioned her straight easily - but she thought maybe Itachi's clean upholstery wouldn't benefit from close contact with her filthy clothes.

"It's fine." He opened the door for her. She wasn't quite sure what to do with that gesture. She didn't want him to think that she was the sort of girl who couldn't handle being asked to pull out her own chairs and open her own doors, but if that was a thing he wanted to do...

Maybe she should ask him not to.

Maybe that was stupid.

_Maybe_ she should just get in the car and stop thinking about it.

Yes, probably.

She put it out of her mind. "If you had a car, why did you end up taking the train back from Sasuke's graduation?" she asked curiously instead of obsessing about Itachi's manners.

"I loaned it to my housemate over the break. He went to visit his family. He has a van, but it's... less reliable, over distances."

Sakura nodded. "That was kind of you."

"I didn't have that far to go," Itachi pointed out.

Itachi, Sakura was pleased to notice, did not drive like he got his license playing Mario Kart. At no point did she experience gut-wrenching terror or feel as though her heart was trying to escape through her throat.

He did, however, take her to the supermarket.

"Are you sure? You don't have to," she said, ignoring that he'd already pulled up.

"I have time," he said, which wasn't really an answer either way - but then he climbed out and he was halfway around the car and she had to rip her seat belt off and leap out with completely undue haste because she was afraid he might try to open the passenger side door for her and she wouldn't know how to respond.

He froze, eyeing her uncertainly. "Sakura-san?" he asked cautiously.

She probably looked like a crazy person, covered in soot and stumbling jerkily from his vehicle. "Itachi-san?" she said back.

They looked at each other for a moment.

Awkwardly, he said, "Groceries?" and she took the comment like the lifeline it was and together they embarked on a grocery shopping adventure.

And, actually, Sakura found that having a cute guy following her around the supermarket changed the experience somewhat.

Firstly, he insisted without comment, simply by scooping it up and ignoring her attempts to take it, on carrying her basket - as though her presence in an explosion had temporarily rendered her incapable of taking the weight of her own produce and she must be prevented from doing anything remotely strenuous until some specific time period had elapsed. Secondly, she found herself wondering how Itachi was judging her when she put her purchases in the basket he was carrying.

So she steadfastly ignored the chocolates and the lollies, avoided the temptation of ice cream and tried not to eye up the weight loss supplements in the health food aisle. Instead she filled her basket with colourful vegetables, lean meats, fruit, eggs, nuts and fish.

What was she even going to do with that much broccoli, she wondered. She didn't like broccoli. Maybe she could feed it to one of her housemates.

"Wow," said the lady at the checkout, when she stopped staring at Itachi's ridiculously handsome face for five seconds to process Sakura's payment, "you look like you've had a rough day."

"A little," said Sakura, looking down and examining her sooty clothes.

They made it back to the house without any blaring horns, squealing breaks or panic attacks, but the second Sakura stepped over the threshold, something big and orange flew at her face.

She caught it on reflex. It was an orange. "What...?"

"Eeek!" she yelped, spun around by the force of a body flying past her.

"ITACHI-NII!"

Itachi made an 'urk' noise when the body collided with him, but it was a testament to his innate poise and dexterity that he neither dropped her groceries nor went tumbling backwards.

Sakura dithered in the doorway, looking from the orange in her soot-stained fingers to how Itachi was trying to carefully put down her groceries amid a sea of flailing arms and happy noises.

"...Tobi-san?" she said, slowly and cautiously.

"Itachi-nii has come to visit Tobi!" he said, finally releasing Itachi and waving his arms expressively.

Itachi shoved one hand in Tobi's face and propelled him away, scooping the groceries up gracefully and heading over the threshold.

Sakura looked between Itachi as he headed for the kitchen and Tobi as he stood rubbing his face on the verandah. He looked as sad as a sack of kicked puppies.

She followed Itachi.

"Itachi-_nii_?" Sakura asked, bemused.

"He's my cousin," said Itachi quietly.

"Ah," said Sakura. "Well, I suppose it's not strange for a cousin to use 'nii-san'," she said thoughtfully.

"My older cousin," said Itachi with a hint of dryness creeping into his voice.

"...ah," Sakura repeated. She considered the matter for a second. They did look a little similar, in a way, although their personalities were so far apart it was hard to fathom how they'd come from the same family. The idea that Tobi had come from the same family as Sasuke was even harder to comprehend.

"I wouldn't have picked it," she said, glancing over her shoulder.

"Thank you," said Itachi.

She couldn't tell if he was being sincere or not. His face showed nothing. He started putting her groceries _away_, and that was where she drew the line.

"Oh, for heaven's sake," she said, taking half a pumpkin from his hands. "Go, sit down."

He gave her a flat look. "Sakura-san, you were in an explosion only an hour ago."

"I'm dirty, not crippled!" she snapped.

There was a very minute change in expression, a slight tightening around his jaw. Itachi looked uncertain.

She took a deep breath. He was trying to help, she reminded herself, not trying to make her feel like he thought she was an incompetent idiot. "Thank you, Itachi-san," she said in a level voice, "I appreciate your help. But I'm perfectly capable of putting my own groceries away."

Uncertain changed to dubious. Their gazes remained locked in a fierce battle of wills. Somewhere a clock was ticking.

"Sakura-chan's knuckles are bruised!" Tobi's voice announced from where he was crouched down somewhere next to her knee.

She _shrieked_ and leapt.

Tobi scuttled back.

Itachi, whose expression didn't even flicker, caught the pumpkin.

There was a silence, and the only sound was the thunderous pounding of Sakura's heart trying to leap out through her ribcage. "Oh my god," she said, pushing her hand against her breastbone as though somehow it would stop the imminent escape of her heart, "where the hell did you even come from? What are you doing _on the ground_?"

Tobi looked at her, wide-eyed. "Tobi was right behind Sakura-chan..." he said slowly.

Oh.

"Oh."

Itachi silently resumed putting her groceries away.

Sakura let him. She sat down at the table and sunk her face into her hands. Hand, actually, because she was still clutching an orange. "Tobi-san," she sighed. "Is this yours?"

"Ah!" he took it from her.

And bit into it.

Through the skin.

Sakura decided not to comment. Of all the complete weirdos she'd met recently, Tobi was probably one of the weirdest. Also probably the least threatening, she supposed, but definitely the weirdest.

It was probably in response to her shrieking that Kakuzu appeared in the kitchen, glowering around. It was the first time Sakura had seen him dressed in anything that didn't cover him head to toe. Today his arms were bare all the way to the shoulder, and she could see the heavy scarring criss-crossing his skin. It wasn't really that ugly, actually. The sutures looked like they'd been done by an absolute butcher, but at least they were evenly spaced and regularly sized. He didn't seem like the type, or else she might think they were some kind of body art.

His eyes landed on Tobi, merciless and displeased.

"Ngeep," said Tobi, holding his hands - and his orange - up in an I-mean-you-no-harm gesture. "Kakuzu-san is scary..."

Kakuzu's gaze swung to Sakura. He paused and took her in. "Were you at school with Deidara today?" he asked, examining her fairly filthy-looking person.

"Yeah," said Sakura. "Does that mean he's home already? I want to make sure he patched up his foot."

"His foot," said Kakuzu, looking steadily less annoyed and more perplexed. But he did kind of look like being perplexed annoyed him. Hmm.

"He got hurt in the evacuation. Is he here?"

"Yes," said Kakuzu slowly. "He's been in the shower for forty minutes." He glanced over at Itachi. "Itachi-san," he said by way of greeting.

"Kakuzu-san," said Itachi in his soft, polite voice.

Sakura glanced over at him. Behind him she could see the glowing insides of the fridge, where the shelf designated hers was filled almost to overflowing in stark contrast to those surrounding it. Deidara's contained a number of containers illegibly labelled that were definitely not filled with anything edible, and the others were virtually empty, excepting coffee grounds, milk and condiments.

Bleak, thought Sakura. Very bleak.

"What do you people actually _eat_?" she wondered. "I know Deidara can't cook without setting everything on fire, but surely the rest of you..."

"Goat," said Kakuzu. "A lot of goat."

Well.

Well, that stood to reason, Sakura supposed. "Oh."

He looked defensive. "It's fresh and cheap."

"Yes," Sakura agreed. "I suppose it would be. How do you know there's no semen in it?" She asked it without thinking, and then of course her words were met with a frozen kind of silence. "Uh, sorry, I -"

Kakuzu turned on his heel and strode out of the kitchen.

There was a pause.

"Sorry," she repeated, mostly to Itachi, who glanced at her and shrugged.

More silence.

"Tobi is a good cook!" Tobi interjected, smiling brightly. He'd somehow inched closer again, and now he was barely two feet away, sitting on the edge of the kitchen table and kicking his legs.

"He is," agreed Itachi neutrally.

Tobi beamed like this small compliment from Itachi meant the whole world to him. Sakura softened a little at that expression. Sure, he had some kind of evident mental problem, but he was kind of sweet, for all that.

"That's why you're at culinary school, right?" she asked, giving him a tired smile. It wasn't that late, but she felt exhausted. "Do you like it?"

"Sometimes it's difficult, and a lot of work... but it's fun, too," he said.

There was a thud from upstairs. Sakura raised her eyes to the ceiling, but ignored the sounds of violence in favour of listening to Tobi chatter on cheerfully about what he'd learned recently. He seemed unable to disconnect his mouth from his train of thought, but as far as Sakura could tell, he was extremely excited about a unit he was doing on making sweets.

Itachi set a pot and several cups down on the table. He shooed Tobi off it, but the other man didn't stop talking and the next several minutes were a blur of Sakura nodding politely while Tobi went obsessively on about how you didn't need a candy thermometer if you had a bowl of cold water and how to temper chocolate.

Chocolate was more complicated than Sakura had suspected.

"Itachi-nii hasn't visited Tobi in a long time," he said suddenly, sounding more cheerful than reproachful. From the corner of her eye, Sakura saw Itachi's face go carefully blank.

She knew he had some kind of problem with his family, and wondered if maybe she shouldn't be here for this discussion.

There was a pause, and it became awkward not to acknowledge the sounds of great violence coming from upstairs. What were they even _doing_? Sakura could hear somebody yelp - it actually sounded like that might have been Kakuzu. She wondered if he was okay.

"I've been busy," said Itachi, interrupting her concerned thoughts.

"Tobi thought if he made more sweet things, Itachi-nii might come more often," he said coaxingly.

Sakura saw her chance to change the subject and seized it. "Ne, Itachi-san, you have a sweet tooth?" she asked, smiling.

His gaze shifted to her.

"Itachi-nii is a dango fiend," Tobi said to Sakura in a whisper that probably carried to the first floor. "But he's a terrible cook, so he can't make them."

Dango..? Sakura felt her eyebrows rise. "Dango are... not that hard to make," she said thoughtfully. "I could-"

"Ah! No! You can't make dango. Itachi-nii will _never_ come to visit if he can visit you instead, Sakura-chan," he looked so pathetic.

Sakura almost melted. She found herself entertaining thoughts about why on earth Itachi would refuse to visit such a well-meaning, sweet relative. Even if he was a bit odd, it was plain that he valued the approval of 'Itachi-nii'.

Itachi, on the other hand, looked increasingly disgruntled by the turn of the conversation.

"Cooking is not one of my skills," he admitted quietly when she looked at him.

"It doesn't seem to be one of _anybody's_ skills," Sakura murmured.

She'd just raised her teacup to her mouth when there was a loud bang then an enraged shriek from deeper in the house, an almighty thumping noise, and then the unmistakable sound of somebody falling - or, perhaps, being pushed - down the stairs.

A pile of fluffy towel, blond hair and pale limbs descended horribly swiftly from the stairs and sprawled across the doorway to the kitchen.

Sakura stopped, teacup forgotten halfway to her mouth.

Deidara stayed still, dripping all over the floor, for a few long moments. Then with an unhappy grunt he hauled himself to his knees and tightened his towel.

"Ah! Deidara-senpai!" Tobi did not seem to care that he'd taken a flying leap down the stairs, only that he was right there and accessible to Tobi.

"What happened?" Sakura wondered, trying her best to keep her eyes on his face. It was something of a losing battle. Because, see, the droplets of water? They rolled downwards. And they drew her gaze. And so her eyes moved downwards, along with the water, over every hot inch of his skin.

Footsteps thundered.

Hidan's voice was indistinct for a moment, but as he descended the stairs they could all hear what he was complaining about. "Why are you bitching at me! I thought you'd be pissed off, too, you asshole. Doesn't an hour long fucking shower waste money?"

Kakuzu bellowed something from above.

"Fuck you!" Hidan yelled back.

Deidara lunged at him.

There was, inevitably, a scuffle. Sakura winced when somebody's head smacked against the floor. It sounded painful.

"Ow, fuck! Stop pulling my hair, what are you, a giant girl?" yelped Hidan.

"FINE," yelled Deidara back, and punched him in the face.

"Mother_fucker_." Hidan hooked his leg around one of Deidara's, sent him sprawling, and then scrambled to his feet just in time to kick the other blond in the ribs.

On the second kick, Deidara caught Hidan's leg and yanked, sending him careening into a wall. He staggered to his feet with an arm wrapped protectively around his ribcage. His breathing sounded laboured, but that could have been exertion.

"So violent..." murmured Tobi, looking disappointed.

Itachi had an expression on his face like he was reading a newspaper article about the relative efficacy of different paint-drying techniques cross-referenced by altitude.

Sakura took a deep breath and drank the rest of the tea in her cup. She could deal with this. She could absolutely deal with this nonsense.

"So you're done with the upstairs bathroom, then?" she asked pointedly.

"What?" Hidan jerked away from his new best friend, the wall, and glowered at her. "No, fuck you, I've been waiting for an hour," he snarled.

"Then go take your shower and stop messing around down here!" Sakura snapped.

"...There are two showers," Sasori reminded them. He'd come out of his own room quietly, and now he was contemplating the damage in the hallway. He had an empty coffee mug in one hand. "Hello, Itachi-san."

"Sasori-san," said Itachi. "We were going to discuss your project."

"Aa," agreed Sasori. He went about making yet another cup of syrupy thick instant coffee.

Sakura stood up. "Okay, I'm going to clean up-"

Hidan made an angry noise.

"-in the _downstairs_ bathroom, since I still reek like explosion. Then I'm probably going to make dinner. Itachi-san, if you're still here by then you're welcome to some."

"What," said Deidara. "Why are you making dinner for _him_?"

"What, you're giving away free food now?" Hidan asked, sounding less angry and more interested all of a sudden.

Sakura slapped her palm across her eyes. "Itachi-san helped me out today," she said from behind her fingers.

"_I_ offered to -"

"He didn't_ blow me up_, Deidara-kun," she said through gritted teeth.

Hidan started to laugh.

"It was an accident!" Deidara protested.

Hidan laughed harder, sounding rather like a broken hinge. Or a broken person. She still wasn't sure what his deal was.

Sasori, unperturbed, wove between them carrying his steaming cup of coffee and disappeared back down the corridor.

Itachi thanked her, then excused himself, polite, low-voiced, and followed Sasori.

Sakura eyed Deidara. "I need a shower," she said flatly. "Afterwards, I'm going to bandage your foot. Then I will make dinner and you can have some if you don't complain like an idiot."

Then she went to get her towel. Hidan was saying something - loudly, obnoxiously, when was he _not_ ? - but she ignored it.

* * *

Dinner was a mess. Sakura took the opportunity to use up all the vegetables she could, resulting in a very nutritious stir fry. It was probably a little boring for Sakura's taste, but neither Deidara nor Itachi appeared terribly discerning about it.

Deidara ate the same way he did everything, which is to say: with more enthusiasm than diplomacy. He was expansive in his praise of her rather mediocre meal, which was mostly delivered around a mouthful of food.

Itachi ate like he might never get a chance to eat again, but didn't want to offend her on the off-chance he might be invited back. She'd seen people - Naruto, really - devour whole bowls of food in about thirty seconds, but she'd never seen somebody do it while adhering to relatively conventional table manners.

"You... like vegetables, Itachi-san?" she inquired gently.

Itachi froze. Slowly he looked up from his bowl and over to her.

"...Yes?" he said. It sounded like a question.

"He doesn't," said Tobi from where he was settled at one side of the table and watching the rest of them devour the food. He'd declined Sakura's invitation, which was probably just as well, because she'd made it largely out of obligatory politeness and he could probably cook a lot better anyway. He leaned forward like he was sharing a really terrible secret. "Itachi-nii is a _really_ bad cook, Sakura-chan. He isn't allowed to use the microwave anymore."

"The microwave," Sakura repeated. "How...?"

"It was horrible," said Tobi, in a voice best described as 'haunted'.

"Worse than the Great Kitchen Fire of September?" she asked, cutting her eyes toward Deidara.

"It was an _accident_," he said through a mouthful of snow peas.

Sakura fought off the urge to note that it _often_ seemed to be an accident, but that never stopped things from catching fire or exploding.

"It was one _tiny kitchen fire_, I can't believe Sasori-senpai even told you about that," he muttered sourly.

"He didn't. It was Kakuzu-san."

"Kakuzu spends a lot of time talking to you," said Deidara, going from annoyed to curious in less than a second. He peered at her, pausing in the process of demolishing the stir fry.

Sakura thought that was hilariously untrue, since Kakuzu rarely spoke to anybody. He was, in a way, the ideal housemate: quiet, clean, punctual and largely absent. She ignored Deidara's comment. "Itachi-san, do you want to take the leftovers home with you?"

"Ah..." Itachi paused for a second, his face very blank. "...No, I don't want to put you to any trouble, Sakura-san."

Well, it wasn't like her food was better than anything he could get from a takeaway shop. "Okay," she shrugged.

He looked at her for a second too long, and then went back to his food.

Later, after Itachi had left (rather reluctantly taking Tobi with him) and Sakura was doing the dishes, Deidara sidled up to her. "You're cruel, Sakura-san," he purred. She turned her head to look at him, and he smiled wickedly. "Teasing poor Itachi like that. I thought he was going to cry, yeah."

She blinked.

His hand ghosted around her waist and his chin settled onto her shoulder for the briefest of moments. "Don't change," he said.

And then he went back upstairs.

Sakura looked at her sudsy hands, trying to comprehend what had just happened.

* * *

From: PIG  
Timestamp: 6:47 PM  
Message body: So the news says your campus got blown up? Did your forehead get melted off? Do you need me to send you flowers in hospital?

From: PIG  
Timestamp: 6:48 PM  
Message body: I can send them under different names so it looks like you have friends. Family discount. Text me back, forehead. xx

To: PIG  
Timestamp: 6:50 PM  
Message body: Hardly. Wasn't as dramatic as it sounds. Accident in the arts centre. Scary as hell, but mostly I just got really dirty. I think my clothes are a write-off.

From: PIG  
Timestamp: 6:51 PM  
Message body: Shopping trip? :)

To: PIG  
Timestamp: 6:55 PM  
Message body: I am sunk in poverty. Give me a few pay cheques, then we'll talk.

From: PIG  
Timestamp: 7:02 PM  
Message body: Boooo. :(

* * *

As though he'd been summoned by Deidara's weird comment earlier, Sakura answered a knock on her bedroom door to find Kakuzu staring balefully at her.

"Ye-es?" she asked. "I thought my bond had gone through?"

"It has," he said shortly, although this didn't seem to improve his temper.

"Okay," she said slowly.

After a second of extremely awkward silence, he said, "Are you planning to move out now?"

"No?" She frowned. Did he _want_ her to leave? Surely she wasn't that hard to live with? He lived with _Hidan_.

"Are you sure?"

"I... Kakuzu-san, what are you getting at?" she asked with a sigh. She leaned against the doorframe, looking up at him. He was really tall. "Am I causing you some kind of problem?"

"No," he said shortly.

"Right. So if I've paid the bond and the rent, and I'm not causing any problem -?"

Once again, Kakuzu looked like he could defeat whatever was confusing him through sheer force of his irritation. After another moment's mutual awkward staring, he finally said, "Do I need to beat up Deidara so you'll stay?"

"What? _No_. Why would you think that?" She asked incredulously.

"I was trying to establish a pattern. Hidan put you in no particular danger to sacrifice an animal and you found that distressing, but you got over it when I beat him up. But Deidara blew up a building with you inside it and you bandaged his toes and gave him free food, "

"It wasn't the whole building," Sakura said, feeling a little defensive. "Why does it matter?" she raised her eyebrows.

"I'm just trying to assess your priorities, since they seem to have little to do with self-preservation," he said, staring at her intently.

"I guess," she said slowly. After a moment's confused, tired thought, she shrugged. "I don't think Deidara would hurt me on purpose," she said.

Kakuzu's eyes flickered briefly, down the corridor, where Deidara's bedroom door was. All was silent behind it. "Deidara can do more damage by accident than Hidan does on purpose," he said flatly.

Sakura followed his gaze. She hadn't really considered that. But, yes, in theory, being blown up by accident was an awful lot more dangerous than being forced to kill a goat.

She looked at him in helpless silence for a few minutes.

"Something to think about," said Kakuzu with frankly astonishing delicacy, before turning on his heel and disappearing back down the corridor.

Sakura watched him go.

Then she closed her door, threw the bolt, and crawled into her bed. When in doubt, there was always homework to comfort her.

* * *

When studying couldn't hold her attention, and sleep seemed like a ludicrously unattainable goal, Sakura sighed, reached over, and closed her fingers around the comfortingly heavy spine of Icha Icha Tactics.

Reading it again wasn't as exciting as reading it for the first time, but it was still trashy, self-indulgent escapism. She didn't have to think too hard when she was reading it, and it held her attention in a soft cocoon of smut and adventure.

It was there for her when nobody else was.

Booting up her computer would take too long, so she checked out nearby book retailers on her phone. There were four other books in the series: Icha Icha Paradise, Icha Icha Violence and their quirky spin-offs Icha Icha Pooltime and Icha Icha Strap.

Sakura checked her bank balance.

She probably couldn't afford all of them all at once. But she _wanted_ them.

Damn. She gnawed her lower lip.

Sakura was starting to understand what Jiraiya had meant when he'd referred to it as a gateway drug.

* * *

To: PIG  
Timestamp: 1:36 AM  
Message body: When did I lose control of my entire life?

From: PIG  
Timestamp: 1:45 AM  
Message body: ASDFJKL;

From: PIG  
Timestamp: 1:45 AM  
Message body: GO TO SLEEP. And try not to get blown up today.

* * *

At seven o'clock in the morning, Sakura received an email to her university account advising her that due to ongoing maintenance of various air filtration systems, classes were cancelled across the university campus. By eight thirty, she'd received an email from Tsunade-sama with 'suggested reading,' to make up for the missed classes.

She didn't really think it was a suggestion.

Because of the changes to her schedule, Sakura was able to arrive five minutes early for her shift at TRIVIA, where Pein was haunting the coffee machine in pensive silence and Konan was idly folding a napkin into some tiny origami shape.

The cafe had one person in it, and the rest was sparkling clean.

"Sakura-san," said Konan, looking up. She did not smile, but it wasn't like she had a particularly unfriendly expression, either.

"Slow day?" Sakura asked curiously as she came closer.

Konan sighed gently. "It always is when the campus is closed. I'd have called you and told you not to come in, to be honest, but..." she looked a little pained for a second. "Well, we have a delivery arriving at about six-thirty, and neither Pein nor I can stay past six today. I know it's late notice, but would you mind waiting for it?"

"Yes, sure," said Sakura. "Since we're not busy, would you mind running me through how to close up? I think I got most of it on Saturday, but I'd like to go over it if that's all right?"

Konan nodded. "Leave the till for Pein for now - he can sort that out when he comes in tomorrow morning." She pressed one last crease and set a tiny origami grasshopper gently atop the a canister of peppermint tea. "Why don't you tell me what you remember?"

Sakura rattled off the list of tasks that needed to be completed before leaving the cafe with only small interjections from Konan along the way, following which she was reduced to exciting tasks like "stand on that precariously balanced ladder and dust the giant origami rose hanging from the ceiling."

"Do you want a coffee?" Pein asked from where he was perched on a stool, evidently dying of boredom while he folded endless little cardboard takeaway boxes. "It's the single greatest perk of working in a cafe. I'd make one for myself, but I've had about twelve since six," he admitted.

Sakura glanced at his trembling hands and decided he probably wasn't lying. "Sure," she said with a shrug.

"What do you drink?"

"Oh, just a cappuc-"

"No," said Konan, whose ears must have been as sharp as a cat's. "She doesn't want a cappuccino, she wants a real coffee. Tell her about the new beans."

"I don't know anything about coffee beans," Sakura protested.

Pein eyed her. "You should probably learn," he said.

Sakura was faced with the sudden thought that ordering a coffee was going to be a lot more difficult than she'd initially suspected.

"There's a new single origin this week," he said, waving at the incomprehensible squiggle on the blackboard.

"Uh," said Sakura, trying to read it.

"It's Ethiopian, from Sidama." He gave her solemn eyes. "It has exaggerated fruit tones, a floral aroma and hints of dark chocolate with a lingering aftertaste."

"Uh," Sakura repeated. "Sounds great." She honestly had no idea what he was talking about. Coffee was coffee, wasn't it? He was looking at her very intently, and she scrambled for something intelligent to say. What would somebody who cared about gourmet coffee beans say? "Is it fair trade?" she hedged.

"All the new ones are," he said with a smile that said she wasn't fooling anybody.

"Well." She flicked her eyes from Konan's bland-but-smiling-around-the-edges expression to Pein's faintly raised eyebrows. "Well, that's okay then."

"You'll do fine," said Konan, patting her on one shoulder.

Pein made Sakura a latte, which had such a perfect rosetta on top that she was almost afraid to destroy it when she mixed her sugar in. Increasingly, she suspected that Pein was actually not nearly as intimidating as he looked, despite how half his face was made of metal.

"That's really nice," she said, glancing shyly at him.

"It's a stupid fad," he said candidly. "But it sells for some reason. It takes a while to learn, but it's basically automatic after a while. I think I can probably do the hearts and rosettas in my sleep by now. You'd think people would be more concerned about the coffee."

"With it's chocolate aroma and lingering hits of floral something something?" Sakura asked innocently.

"You scoff now," he said ominously. "Give it time."

Sakura rolled her eyes and sipped her - admittedly very nice - coffee.

Konan seemed to become increasingly quiet as the time went by. Between about five and five thirty they produced take away coffee for the leaving-work crowd, but it was otherwise silent, and the shop was packed up entirely by six.

"The van will show up out the back. Don't unpack it - just bring it into the store room and lock up behind you," Konan said, pressing a spare key into Sakura's hand. She reminded her how to set the alarm, and apologised again for leaving her to receive the delivery on her own.

"Try not to get too distracted," was her last, rather cryptic, piece of advice.

Getting distracted seemed to be the least of Sakura's worries, since she spent the next thirty minutes perched on a cushioned milk crate, flicking through social media sites on her phone.

At six thirty there was no sign of the delivery, and Sakura was finally feeling the effects of staying up to all hours just to read more Icha Icha. She yawned.

It was ten past seven by the time somebody finally knocked on the back door, and Sakura shoved her phone away and headed to open it.

In the inconsistent light of a buzzing street lamp there was a van painted with intricate wheels of red and black, no two quite the same. There was something large and misshapen strapped to the top of the vehicle covered in canvas and oilcloth. The windows were heavily tinted.

'MIRRORED EYES: THE GREAT ILLUSION,' read the gilded text on the side of the van.

There was nobody in sight, but as she paused on the threshold, wondering about all the flashy painting, a tall figure appeared from around the back of the van.

For a second he was silhouetted by the headlights, and all she could see was broad shoulders, long limbs, slim hips. He had a box braced against one hip and his shoes clicked on the cement. Light glinted from his hair, which was a wild mess that tumbled down to his waist.

As he approached, the street light crossed him, and she saw that he had a face that would not have looked out of place on a classical sculpture: strong jaw, a high and clear brow, killer cheekbones.

"You must be Sakura," he said, eyeing her. His eyes glinted oddly. She was sure they were dark, but the street light seemed to pick up red highlights.

"Yes," said Sakura. "And you're... making a delivery." She wished she sounded more certain.

He certainly acted like he was making a delivery, what with showing up at the right place with a box under one arm, but she couldn't fathom what a person like him would be delivering to TRIVIA.

He ignored her implicit question and came closer. Some deep, lizard-brain instinct told Sakura to move - and move _now_, quickly, before something terrible happened to her - but she found her feet frozen to the spot.

She couldn't move. Her hands shook.

"I didn't expect to find you working here," the man said conversationally, striding past her into the shop. "But I suppose it's just as well. Store room?"

"Left," said Sakura in a voice gone strange and breathy. A bead of sweat trickled down the back of her neck, between her shoulder blades.

She told herself not to be stupid. Konan and Pein wouldn't have left her waiting for somebody dangerous, and everybody knew she was at work. She'd be fine. She straightened her spine and cleared her throat, although it felt like even these small movements were an enormous struggle.

He turned toward her when she moved, paused in the doorway of the store room, eyes curious. He didn't say anything.

She wasn't sure what to say either. Which made her feel like an idiot.

She cleared her throat again. "Um, excuse me, but... what is a person like you doing making deliveries to a cafe?"

"Oh?" He murmured. He set his box down with a thump and came back toward her. "And what is a person like me?"

His teeth flashed in what Sakura supposed he might have intended as a smile. She was pretty sure she'd seen smiles like that on Animal Planet.

Her back was against the wall. She didn't remember moving.

There was definitely something red glinting in his eyes.

"Well, you don't look like you're delivering paper cups," she said, lifting her chin even as she wished she could claw deeper into the wall.

There was a terrible pause where her heart rate tripled and his eyes bored into hers.

Then he laughed. He had a hearty laugh, deep and pleased, and not at all the silky threatening noise she would have expected.

"No," he said after a pause for breath. "No. But you might be better off not knowing, Haruno Sakura."

And somehow he knew her full name. Thank god that wasn't creepy or anything. "I don't know your name," she said, inching along the wall, further into the shop and incidentally away from his looming frame.

"Uchiha Madara," he said, and produced a thin piece of card from nowhere in a fairly impressive display of sleight of hand.

Sakura took it, mostly in the interest of him leaving her alone.

He gave her one last tooth-baring smile, and then disappeared with a wave and a laugh. Metal slid against metal with a grating noise. His painted van took off with a rumble.

Sakura closed and locked the door and sat down with her back against it, where she quietly relearned how to breathe.

She flipped the little card over in her hands. 'Mirrored Eyes: The Great Illusion,' said one side, backed by a red design that looked like commas in a circle - or koi, or something, she wasn't sure. It was very stylised.

The other side read 'Uchiha Madara: illusionist and magician extraordinaire', and below this was printed a telephone number and an email address.

She stared at the wall for a while, trying to convince herself that nothing had just gone horribly wrong. He hadn't even done anything threatening, unless you counted smiling and talking.

He'd shown up, introduced himself, dropped off the package. That was all. Mission successful.

Still. Sakura waited another twenty minutes, until she was sure he was gone, before she left the cafe.

* * *

**Author's Note**: This chapter was on crack, and I'm sorry but I'm actually not that sorry. Not as sorry as I should be, that's for sure. The chapter originally ended at around when Ino told Sakura "Boooo :(" via text message. But then I decided to get some more written before the working week swallows my motivation and time again, so, hooray!

**Firerosemon, Angry Paradox** and **Of Healing Love**, for your amusement, I present to you: Madara. This is way earlier than my vague ideas about the story had him introduced, but since I have no idea what I'm doing it doesn't matter much. I hope he is everything you wanted. (I mean, aside from the magician thing. Probably. But you have to admit, he probably looks pretty nice in rolled up shirtsleeves and a waistcoat.) **Firerosemon**, I hope this makes up for the ongoing absence of Naruto and/or Sasuke. I'm sooorrrry. I keep getting distracted!

With regard to how I have no idea what I'm doing and write by rolling my face across the keys, I appreciate that **rawr-san** thinks it's working out. Cheers. : P

**GrrFaced-san,** even if Sakura was to hook up with somebody, she wouldn't necessarily stay with him! Who knows, she might end up with Kakuzu. Or Jiraiya. Or she might have a sexuality crisis and skip town with Konan, leaving hipster!Pein to weep anguished tears until somebody institutionalised him for his own safety. (I would totally run away with Konan, if we're counting. That lady is smokin'.)

Omg, **telekinesis1728**, I love people who have no life and want to read my updates, please, that's awesome. Also, yes, that was Hidan, and I had fun with that text message conversation. I'm glad you liked it. : )

And also thanks to **mun3litKnight, Analelle **and **La Nuit Noir** for your very kind reviews. :3

(**Trivia**: **Angry Paradox **and I are almost the same height. Just sayin'.)

Remember that **your reviews fuel my writing**. And also my ego, probably. Anyway. A new r**ather silly and completely irrelevant question for brave reviewers**: do you think Deidara and Itachi REALLY can't cook? Which Akatsuki member would be the worst cook, do you think? : D


	9. Chapter 9

In which a housemate is injured, Hidan is sneaky, sleep is lost, the author indulges in some food porn, and some misunderstandings lead to a _tiny little bit_ of chaos.

* * *

When Sakura returned home - finally, at about nine o'clock - the house was dark and silent. That didn't indicate much, to be honest. She'd discovered that although Hidan and Deidara were often very noisy, all four of her housemates could be almost completely silent if they wanted to.

They usually didn't want to.

Whatever. They were adults - in body, at least - and they could take care of themselves. She grabbed some leftovers from her shelf in the fridge, ate them cold while leaning against the sink, took a very hot shower and went to her room to settle down with a textbook and her lecture notes for the evening.

It was nearly midnight when she heard cursing in the corridor, and then a heavy, open-handed thud against her door.

Hidan didn't sound quite right. Was he drunk? She contemplated pretending she wasn't in, but her light was on. He'd know, and he'd be pissed off.

Warily, she decided against unlocking her door.

"Yeah?" she called from her sleeping bag on the floor.

"You do first aid shit, right?" his voice still didn't sound right, but now she pinpointed it as kind of... strained.

She snapped to her feet and strode to open the door. Hidan was leaning gingerly on the wall outside. His face was bruised and swelling on one side, and he was trailing blood down the corridor. His clothes were bloody in enough places that she couldn't pinpoint the source, so she looked him up and down, searching for the injury itself.

For a second she couldn't see the injury that was bleeding, because it was hidden under his hand, which was at least applying steady pressure. It was in a weird spot, high on the outside of his leg.

"Wow, you should probably see a real doctor, Hidan-san. There's an urgent care clinic -"

He scowled. "No. Come on, it's a fucking scratch. I just can't reach it right. You can clean it and bandage it, right?"

Sakura let out an annoyed huff. "Tell me you didn't do that to yourself," she muttered, eyeing the mess. It was kind of hard to see how serious it really might be, but she suspected he'd be better off at a hospital, or at least a twenty-four hour clinic.

"Does it fucking matter?" he snarled. His voice was strong for a man who was bleeding all over the floor. It was a wonder he'd gotten so far up the stairs. Hidan must have had incredible tolerance for pain.

"Well," she said, pulling open her door and letting him into her room before turning to fetch her first aid kit, "I might not give you the pain killers if you did it to yourself," she said drily.

"So if I was fucking crazy, you'd deny medication to me," he said, sitting heavily on the floor boards and wincing. "Fucking grade-A doctor you're gonna be."

Sakura blinked, paused, and then took the kit over to him. If Hidan _did_ have some kind of poorly-managed mood disorder it might explain a few things.

"No," she said, gentling her tone a little despite how annoying he was, "of course I wouldn't. although you'd need more than first aid to help that kind of problem, Hidan-san. Is that what -?"

"No," he said.

She eyed him, wondering if he was telling the truth. If he was hiding - badly - a serious mental illness and a self-harming habit, there was very little she could do about it. Best not to press, then. She didn't want him thinking he had to avoid getting help for injuries like this. "Okay," she agreed mildly. "I'm going to cut your pants,"

His mood turned on a dime. "If that's what gets you off," he said, fast and practised, raising one eyebrow. Bruised and bleeding as he was, he still had a killer smile. If you liked your men a little wicked.

"Right," she said blandly, refusing to rise to that bait. "I need you to turn a little."

The wound went into the meat of his thigh, high up enough that she really hoped he was wearing underwear... not that she hadn't already seen everything. He was wearing jeans, and the heavy denim was soaked in more than one place. At the bottom edge the blood had slowed and stated to dry, sealing the denim to him in a weird, tacky, congealing mess.

"You have glass in your thigh," she said, once she'd spotted it. Ow.

"Fuck, I thought I got all that out," he grumbled.

She hesitated for a second, reaching but not touching. "I've got some codeine," she said. "Do you want it? It might be a good idea to take it now."

"Nah," he said, breathing deep. "God holds all suffering sacred. It's not really okay for me to take that shit."

She frowned. "That seems... unnecessarily cruel."

"Yep," he agreed. He smiled at her. This one was a little more genuine.

She wielded her scissors with a confidence she actually did not feel at all, slicing down the outside seam of his jeans. "Why would you follow a religion like that?" she wondered.

"All religions are fucking cruel," he declared in a voice gone suddenly strong and scathing. "Mine's the only one that's fucking up front about it." He breathed deeply and carefully as Sakura concentrated on getting the fabric away from where it was partially stuck in his skin. It looked like maybe he'd skidded across something.

"Right," she muttered. She took the shard of glass out quickly but carefully, and she was quick to apply pressure. The wash of fresh blood might have helped clean the wound, but he'd already bled quite a lot.

She wasn't sure how to respond to his comment. She knew very little about his religion and wasn't convinced that it was in her own best interests to learn much more. She washed the whole mess with saline then cleaned it out with an antiseptic that must have stung like all hell.

If Hidan noticed that pain, Sakura couldn't tell. His breathing was deep and even, his eyes relaxed and distant.

"How did you get this, anyway?" she asked instead.

"Dustup at work," he said candidly. "There was a mess with some local assholes from some gang. We ended up forty minutes late for fucking everything."

She supposed she shouldn't have been surprised that Hidan had managed to be involved in some shady gang fight - he phrased it to sound as though he'd been innocently doing his job when they'd picked a fight, but she had her doubts. "Huh," she said, instead of any of the things she was thinking, feeling that she was being very diplomatic. "Sounds scary."

"Nah," he disagreed. "Lucky shot knocked me on my arse," he admitted, pointing to his chin where the swelling was really beginning to set in. "I beat the shit out of them."

And even if he hadn't, that's what he'd be telling her. She nodded easily. "Is there going to be trouble here?"

"Here?" His lips cracked into a broad, deranged smile. A split that had stopped bleeding began again, painting his lower lip red. "Fuck, God willing, yes. But probably not."

She relaxed a little and nodded. Dressing now, then bandage. The bleeding seemed to be slowing on its own, and Hidan's breathing was still slow and steady - and he was still talking just as coherently as he usually was. He probably hadn't lost that much blood, on a grand scale.

Which meant that at least some of the blood wasn't his. She hoped idly that there were no horrific blood-borne diseases involved. She doubted she'd be able to get him to go to a hospital.

He cracked a huge yawn. "Are you gonna put some furniture in here at some point?" he asked, scowling at the room. "Seriously, it looks like some hobo squatter moved in. Do you actually sleep on the fucking floor?"

She glanced behind them. Her 'bed' was currently her sleeping bag and a couple of extra blankets topped with a pillow. It looked a little like a nest, surrounded by her laptop, a table lamp resting on the floor, and her pile of books. A stream of moonlight from the balcony doors crossed it, intersecting oddly with her lamp light.

"Haven't had the time," she admitted, although she thought about it every evening when she felt how hard it was under her spine. "But I've got furniture in storage. One of my friends said he'd be bringing it up here this week."

Well, he hadn't _said_, exactly, but she'd told him to and he probably would. Naruto was startlingly sweet like that sometimes.

Hidan grunted. "About fucking time, you've been here long enough."

"I guess," she said, nudging his legs apart so she could cut the leg of his jeans away. He spread his legs wider than he had to without complaint, licked his lips, smiled another of those mean, knowing little smirks and gave her some serious eye contact.

"Stop sexually harassing me. I will smack you," she warned.

"Yeah? Kinky," he purred.

She didn't look up from his leg when she smacked him on the arm, open-handed, hard enough to sting but not to do any damage.

He laughed, and then winced when his mirth jarred something. "Fucking ow, that hurts," he said, pressing a hand to his jaw.

"_That_ hurts?" she asked incredulously, winding a gauze bandage around carefully.

"Face shit always hurts," he said, blinking sleepily at her. "Your bedside manner's a lot better than Kakuzu's, seriously," he commented, yawning again.

It was contagious. She yawned in response. "Kakuzu-san usually does this sort of thing?"

"Mmm," Hidan agreed, letting his head fall back against the wall. "If you pay him. Mean fucker," he added after a second, as though it was some kind of obligatory title.

"Ah," Sakura said, understanding. Of course. If there was a way to get money out of somebody, Kakuzu would find it. Although it seemed a little callous to charge your housemates for first aid.

But first aid supplies cost money, and neither Hidan nor Deidara had proven very competent at avoiding injury.

She looked up to comment on this, but Hidan was dozing against the wall. "Hey, no, you can't sleep here," she said, poking him in the chest.

He swatted half-heartedly at her hand. "Fuck off, I'm sleepy," he growled. It wasn't a very threatening growl.

She eyed him. "Your bedroom is just down the corridor, Hidan-san," she said.

"It's a fucking long corridor," he said. "And my room's cold. I don't snore or anything. Just stop whining and you won't even know I'm taking a nap here."

She heaved a sigh. It wasn't like she could lift him. "Fine," she grumbled, and returned to her blanket nest.

* * *

At two o'clock she woke to a heavy body curling around her, shivering closer under the unzipped edge of her sleeping bag.

She froze, heart pounding. Idiot, she thought. She _knew_ she shouldn't have let him through her door in the first place. What even possessed her to go to sleep with him in the same room? And now she was trapped and -

"It's really fucking cold," Hidan grumbled sleepily. He sounded... plaintive. Whining. Not dangerous.

"Hidan," she growled, dropping the honorific.

She could almost hear him rolling his eyes. "I'm not gonna try anything," he said around a yawn. "But it's cold, and you're warm."

"If it's so goddamn cold, go back to your own bed," she snarled, flailing and smacking him in the face with one elbow.

"Ow, mother_fucker_," he swore, and grabbed her elbow. He tugged on her sleeping bag. "Don't be fucking cruel, my leg really hurts."

He pulled on her elbow, wrapping her arm around his stomach, forcing her into a kind of weird spooning position against his back. His hair smelled like expensive shampoo, but under it was the strange, raw-meat smell of healing injuries and the rusty scent of dried blood. She couldn't smell anything of Hidan under all that.

Oh, what the hell did it matter? She'd be hard pressed to make him go anywhere he didn't want to, and it was late. And she had work in the morning. She heaved a giant sigh. "You're an asshole," she told him, smacking his stomach with her open palm, since that was where he was keeping her hand anyway. But rude as it was, he comment was a symptom of relenting.

"You're _warm_," he told her happily.

"I am going back to sleep. If you try anything -" she paused. He was bigger, stronger and crazier than she was. What was she going to say? She'd threaten to threaten?

"Yeah?" he drawled, obviously thinking the same thing.

"I'm pretty sure I can outrun you right now," she huffed finally, feeling just a little resentful about the whole situation.

She felt his stomach muscles contract against a laugh.

"Don't fucking flatter yourself," he told her with a mean smile she could hear. "You should be flattered a someone as fucking hot as me would -"

She threw one of the extra blankets over his head to drown out the noise.

Wednesday morning, Sakura's alarm went off at five o'clock because she was meant to open with Pein at six. The second thing she heard was a confused, unhappy noise.

"...the fuck is it?" Hidan's voice was croaky in the morning. He had one long, lean-muscled arm coiled around her hips, but she was pleased to note that their positioning was more or less innocent.

"I've got work," she said, at least as unhappy as he sounded, reaching over to turn the alarm off.

He grunted, burrowing his head under the covers. He was really warm.

...but he still smelled pretty filthy.

She wriggled a little.

"I need to get out," she said pointedly.

He made a really pathetic growling noise and let her climb over him to the unzipped edge of the sleeping bag and stumble out onto the cold floorboards.

Then he rolled over with a wince and went back to sleep.

She sighed. Well, whatever. It wasn't like she had anything especially secret in here

She grabbed her clothes and her towel and went to the bathroom to get ready for work.

* * *

"You look tired, Sakura-san," said Pein when she got in that morning. "I understand that the delivery was late," he added thoughtfully.

"Not that late," she shook her head. "But when I got home there was a problem with one of my housemates, so it was a late night anyway."

He nodded, accepting this rather vague explanation.

Despite his appearance, Sakura found that she rather liked Pein. There was an undeniable placidity about him that nobody else she knew really had. Even Itachi, who was so very collected, had definite sharp edges buried under his serene face.

Nobody had quite as many sharp edges as Hidan, though, she reflected. She pushed that thought away.

Pein pushed a latte toward her, and she took a second to examine the foam, in which there was undeniably the sweeping image of two circling koi.

"Uh, wow," she said, a little dumbfounded. "I don't think I could draw that with a pen," she admitted.

Pein gave her a half-smile and sipped his own coffee. "You looked like you needed it."

"I do," she agreed, regretfully destroying the foam art when she stirred in her sugar, "Oh, I do."

Sakura worked until eleven. It was mostly a breakfast crowd. Thankfully TRIVIA served mostly western food. She couldn't imagine how tricky it would be to be trying to steam rice, prepare tamagoyaki and broil fish while serving customers. The cafe just didn't have room for it.

They did well enough as it was, anyway. There were a few people who came in and ordered a bowl of cereal and milk, which puzzled Sakura exceedingly since it wasn't exactly rocket science to prepare. But there were also croissants with cheese and ham and thinly-sliced tomatoes, or alternatively chocolate or fruit preserves, thick slices of toast with cold cuts or spreads or fruit salads with yoghurt and honey, all of which were simple to prepare in their tiny kitchen area.

It fell into a pattern easily, once they were set up and organised: Pein made coffee after coffee, interrupted only by occasional requests for tea or hot chocolate. He must have had good observational skills and a really excellent memory, because his strange, sharp eyes missed nothing: he knew every regular's order within three visits, remembered the names of very nearly every repeat customer, and knew just which sweet thing to nudge somebody toward to get them to buy it.

After the fifth hesitant student had come in determined to avoid calorific additions and left, a little bewildered, with a delicious slice of hot buttered banana bread in one hand and a takeaway coffee in the other, Sakura decided she'd better keep an eye on him. He was clearly a triple threat to any diet plan.

"It's not me," he said during a brief and very temporary lull while Sakura was doing her best to make a dent in the growing pile of dirty dishes. "Konan makes excellent banana bread."

"Hmm," said Sakura, rather dubiously.

Konan _did_ make really excellent baked goods, however. The banana bread, the honey-ginger biscuits made with almond meal... There were also - apparently famously, since Sakura had already been asked for them four times and she'd only been there for three shifts - chopped date and chai spice biscuits that came out only on Thursdays and had a dedicated following of their own.

"She makes five trays," Pein informed Sakura quietly, watching the latest disappointed cookie-hunter disappear with only a long black and a commercially-produced choc-chip biscuit in hand. "They always sell out before the lunch rush."

His strange, ringed eyes had a satisfied gleam, like he enjoyed denying the people who came in demanding baked goods to which they were plainly addicted.

"Wow," said Sakura, feeling her eyebrows rise. "I don't usually eat a lot of sweets, but maybe I should make an exception..."

Konan also made a kind of fruit bread with thinly sliced dried figs and walnuts, which Sakura happily toasted and served with a smear of salted butter and hot tea. The smell of cooking fruit sugars and espresso was kind of hard to ignore, and made her stomach rumble unhappily. She'd eaten a banana and a latte for breakfast, and it was starting to show.

At eleven, Konan herself appeared, hauling a number of heavy bags with her, and all of the lunch foods had been delivered by disgruntled men and women in vans with boring logos, and Sakura kept her apron on long enough to finish the giant pile of dishes while Konan took over with the register and keeping on top of orders.

The sweet breakfasts foods were all but forgotten, and all Sakura could think about by the time eleven thirty came around and she was supposed to be leaving were those soft sourdough rolls filled with shredded chicken, coriander and flaked almonds, topped with a mayonnaise Konan made from scratch in her own kitchen.

"I'll go you halves," Konan said, eyeing exactly the same rolls.

"_Yes_," said Sakura, completely unashamed of her lust for them.

They had a little lull before the lunch rush, where Konan cut the roll and they leaned on opposite sides of the low counter, devouring hungrily.

"How'd we do this morning?" Konan asked, somehow looking refined and elegant even when she was shoving food in her mouth and speaking aloud.

Sakura idly considered that she'd probably maim somebody for half her boss's poise.

"Good," said Pein, nodding a little as he poured a ridiculously cute foam panda onto the top of somebody's drink. It had big, sad-looking eyes. Sakura watched, wondering how this magic was achieved.

In the bag by her leg, her phone buzzed, informing her that she had messages previously received but not checked. She pulled it out and examined the screen, still picking at her roll.

From: The Great Uzumaki Naruto, King of Ramen  
Timestamp: 10:15 AM  
Message body: SAKURA-CHAN THERE'S A WEIRD MAN IN YOUR BED.

Oh, god.

Who had let Naruto into her room? No, she hadn't locked the door to her room when she left, but...

Oh, _god_.

"Sakura-san?" that was Pein, not Konan. She jumped.

"It's fine," she said, and if it came out sounding a little strangled, well -

From: The Great Uzumaki Naruto, King of Ramen  
Timestamp: 10:16 AM  
Message body: HE'S NT WEARNG PANTS SAKURA-CHAAAAAN WHAT HAPPENED

Well, no, she supposed, he probably wouldn't have been. Because she'd cut most of them away, and then they'd just been a mess of bloody denim scraps. She probably would have taken them off, too.

She flipped through her messages.

From: U. Sasuke  
Timestamp: 10:30 AM  
Message body: We left you for a fortnight, Sakura. One fortnight.

He'd brought _Sasuke_?

It was the first text she'd received from Sasuke's phone that might actually have been from Sasuke in about a month.

There was a missed call from Deidara.

Make that three missed calls from Deidara.

And then one from Itachi.

She scrubbed her hands through her hair. "Crap," she muttered.

Konan glanced over her shoulder. "Looks like you were missed."

"Apparently," she muttered, contemplating whether or not she should call any of them back.

A second later, the cafe phone rang. "TRIVIA," said Konan automatically, picking it up.

There was a long silence.

A tinny voice said, "Konan-san?"

"Aa," she said, frowning.

The next words were indecipherable. "Yes," said Konan. She glanced curiously at Sakura. "She's fine?" her voice turned up in a question at the end.

More talking from the other line. "Mmm," said Konan. She was still looking straight at Sakura. "I see. She's working. No, she's working. No. If she doesn't work, she doesn't get paid," she went on implacably.

After she'd hung up, Konan blinked at her for a second. "Sakura-san..." she said slowly. "Are you Akasuna Sasori's new housemate? The one who's a friend of Itachi-san?"

Sakura looked up from her phone. "You ...know Sasori-san?" She hadn't been aware that Sasori had enough experience talking to other human beings to make friends. "You know Itachi?"

They looked at each other for a second.

"And Kakuzu and Hidan?" Konan said in that same slow voice.

"And Deidara," said Sakura. "You know all of them?"

Pein made a noise, something between the sound an unhappy cat makes and a snort of laughter. It wasn't very flattering.

"How convenient," murmured Konan.

Sakura wasn't entirely sure why that might be convenient, but she nodded slowly.

"He... Was he calling for me?" She had no idea what Sasori would be calling her for, since she'd spoken about twenty sentences to him and most of them he'd answered with a grunt or some kind of rude non-sequitur.

Konan's eyebrows rose. "Sasori called to say that your friends are very noisy, and Hidan is screaming, and Deidara set something on fire, and could you come home immediately and make them all be quiet so he could concentrate."

"Oh, _god_," Sakura moaned, sinking her head into her hands. Her delicious roll was forgotten in favour of a sense of terrible impending trauma.

"I told him you had to stay at work," she offered with a sympathetic half-smile.

"Thank you," she exhaled. "Do you think if I just hide in the university library for the next six hours they'll all go away?"

"Only when they have to visit the ED," Pein predicted serenely.

He was probably right. Her phone buzzed in her hand, and she contemplated not even looking at it.

Reluctantly, she glanced at the caller.

Kakuzu.

Huh. She flicked 'answer' and brought it to her ear, heading into the quieter part of the cafe. "Kakuzu-san," she said.

"What the hell happened last night," he said. It should have been a question, but it sure didn't _sound_ like a question. "There's some little blond shit shrieking about Hidan violating your innocence. Deidara and Hidan are..." there was a thump and a distinctly agonised scream in the background, "having a disagreement."

Kakuzu sounded... tired.

She probably did owe him an explanation - given that he was the poor bastard who got to walk in on the mess.

"Hidan-san was injured," she said, contemplating how she should explain. In the split-second between one breath and the next, Sakura decided to pretend she was absolutely oblivious to the implications of letting a strange man sleep in her bed with her. "I bandaged the injury, but he refused medication and he didn't want to go to the hospital, so I let him sleep in my room for the night so I could keep an eye on him. Then I had to go to work. I don't know what happened after that."

"You let Hidan sleep in your room," Kakuzu said slowly.

In the background there was another enraged bellow, voice indecipherable, which may or may not have been in response to Kakuzu's words.

"Uh, yeah. He was hurt. I was worried."

"You were worried," he repeated.

"...yes," she agreed, wondering what the problem was.

There was a short pause, and then another noise in the background.

"_Put down the knife_," she heard Sasori growl in a voice that made the hairs on her arms stand up.

There was a clatter and a crash.

Kakuzu grunted. It wasn't a happy sound.

"Aw, Sasuke-chan's nose is bleeding," said a very loud, much-too-cheerful voice right near the phone.

"Is that Tobi?" Sakura asked incredulously.

"Hello, Sakura-chaaan!" he yelled into the phone, and probably incidentally into Kakuzu's ear.

The next thud sounded remarkably close by, and sounded a lot like Tobi's head meeting the wall.

Kakuzu was probably the sanest of them all, she thought, feeling very sympathetic toward him all of a sudden.

"Come down to TRIVIA," Sakura suggested, now armed with the knowledge that Kakuzu would know exactly where that was. "Let them sort themselves out. I'll buy you a coffee."

"Lunch," Kakuzu said in a dire voice. "This is worth at _least_ lunch."

"Fine, I'll buy you lunch," she rolled her eyes. "Just get out of there."

"Fine," he grumped, and then the call cut out.

Sakura leaned back against the edge of the counter and closed her eyes, exhaling deeply. It felt like the beginning of a really, really long day.

* * *

**Author's Notes**: They're really long this time, sorry. There's nothing really super important re: the story down here, so if you don't like reading notes you can stop here~

**VesperChan! **( Madara. Rolled shirt sleeves. Waistcoat. Hells to the yes, I'm on board. )Thank you for your review! I love long reviews, I get kind of excited about being able to be like OMG DETAILED ENGAGEMENT IN A THING I DID. I think people hanging out on ffnet can pretty much all sympathise with the "I stayed up too late reading something frivolous and self-indulgent and now I'm really tired this morning," problem, lol. It's certainly a common one in MY life. I think there's a lot of complicated social stuff involved in having a female character who is actually not a Complete Monster can be aware, confused, and most importantly _interested, _with regard to being exposed to multiple sexualities. That kind of oblivious but sexualised femininity means you don't have to think too hard about the power dynamics. I mean, in my view. I'm not saying anybody has to share that view. Since you asked so kindly, I present to you: some Hidan, and a little Pein. I will get around to Sasori eventually, although I see him as kind of the temperamental crazy person in the cellar. Even though he's... not in the cellar. Yup. Anyway, _thank you._

**jujubug12** suggested Samehada as a cat, and since that's easy and adorable: DONE, that's totally a thing in this AU now. **Angry Paradox** wanted Fireman Kisame, which won't happen, but I wrote it anyway. It was meant to be an omake? But it got away from me and it's like, chapter-length and isn't even in the modern AU-verse and it's silly and terrible BUT you will be able to find it on my profile ( assuming I post it straight after posting this chapter and ffnet doesn't shit itself again ). Consider it a pre-emptive apology for how long it's taking to introduce Kisame.

**Of Healing Love, **I love dangerously long reviews. THEY ARE IN NO WAY BORING. Homg, no. My brain does a happy dance and trickles out my ears. This is a vicious cycle of mutual drugging, because I get a dopamine hit every time somebody reviews and, apparently, you like reading chapters. I think Madara will be making more appearances as the chapters go on, but maybe not as often as you'd like. I am sorry. : (

**La Nuit Noire**, I think you hit the nail on the head. Itachi is too restrained and polite to beg leftovers, but oh how he wanted them.

**Analelle, **I am really hoping Sakura and Itachi have some fluffy dango-times at some point, too. Confession: the mental image of Itachi covered in glutinous rice flour looking bewildered is one that makes everything in my brain grind to a halt out of sheer heart-stopping adorableness.

**Galimaufry**, hello! Thank you for commenting~ I understand how hard it can be to de-lurk, but I'm glad you did. Hm, I have complicated feelings about the romantic love stereotype where you meet one guy and stay with him foreverrrr and ever. I think because it's kind of linked toward the idea of female sexual "purity" in that you have to, like, wait for the right person or something? Which is kind of... it makes me feel uncomfortable, in a commodification-of-female-sexuality-creepy-paternalistic-vibes kind of way. Now that I sound like a crazy person, I'm going to tell you that you have pre-empted a large chunk of the next several chapters. AM I REALLY THAT TRANSPARENT? Nooooo! Hahaha. Good effort, though. : )

**Firerosemon**, I cannot say how much your review pleased me. You speak my language. Somehow. I don't even know. I'm sorry, there wasn't a lot of Itachi in this chapter. I'm sure he'll have something to say about somebody punching Sasuke in the face next time, though, if that's any consolation.

**Scarletknight17**, thank you! I think it might be a little unrealistic for _all_ of them to want her in a serious way, but there's nothing wrong with a lot of uncommitted flirting. There will be more Zetsu soon. Soooon. : )

The possibility of Hidan as a freaking terrible cook with everything tasting like hot blood had not occurred to me,** la canelle, **but it sure has now. :P

**GrrFaced-san**, you are quite correct. That was indeed Kisame. : )

Thank you ** , 22snowy, Shadowlove'scookies, FairiesDescent, mun3litKnight, Sharkbait-ooohaha** and **XSilentxAngelX **for your terribly kind reviews. : )

Can I just say: reviewers for this story are really nice? And like, friendly. People make suggestions, which is lovely, but they don't make them like entitled assholes. You're all so polite! Even when there's been a very occasional criticism, you're polite about it! I actually really appreciate that nobody's been like 'is there a fucking point to any of this?' and more like 'not a lot happened this chapter,' and 'perhaps x was overdone' and so forth. I don't mind criticism in general but I am a _delicate little flower_ and I really appreciate it when people are polite about it, so a huge thank you. You're amazing. : D


	10. Chapter 10

In which Sakura has lunch with Kakuzu, there is a brief interlude with the glorious Icha Icha, somebody gets stabbed, italics are abused and Sakura still has to get Naruto to leave her goddamned house.

* * *

That was how Sakura ended up sitting in a back corner of TRIVIA, watching silently with her hand propped on her chin as Kakuzu devoured his lunch - a crusty sourdough roll filled with avocado, tomato, thin slices of a soft white brie and a generous cut of some kind of cured meat.

He ate it like it had been a while since he'd had a good meal, which was interesting, because if Sakura could afford to buy groceries he certainly could too. Perhaps he was another one who couldn't cook.

Sakura watched and decided against commenting.

There was silence.

Silence and, like, chewing-om-nom-nom noises.

Kakuzu didn't seem to grow uncomfortable with Sakura's eyes on him, so she kept watching. She figured he was probably used to it - with the scars on his face, half the shop took a second glance before they shifted away from him.

They stretched oddly when he ate, but they weren't that bad, once you got used to them. She'd seen much worse scars, both in her textbooks and day to day. They could have been keloid scars that built up and spread well past the original wound, or maybe bad burn scars where the skin had melted and flowed.

With the kind of week she'd had, it began as a subtle annoyance but quickly grew until she was itching with the urge to turn around and yell at random customers whose gaze lingered a little too long. It was hypocritical, of course - she'd done it when she first saw Kakuzu's face, too.

"You work at TRIVIA," Kakuzu said, breaking her out of her cranky thoughts.

No shit, she thought crankily.

"Yep," she agreed, dragging her glower away from a lady ordering a short black and back to his face. "Nearly a week now." Or, it would be, provided she managed to survive the week. Between creepy magicians, exploding buildings, crazy people crawling into her sleeping bag...

He was looking at her like she'd finally done something interesting and he had no way to classify it. After a second in which he shoved another bite of his lunch into his mouth, he spoke again. "A week. And you like it?"

She shrugged. "I don't dislike it. Pein-san and Konan-san are good, the work keeps me on my feet and the hours are flexible."

He eyed her for another few long seconds. Then he grunted and went back to his food.

She had no idea what that was meant to indicate, other than his total lack of social skills.

Her phone buzzed. Again. It was resting on the wooden tabletop, next to her right hand. She eyed it warily, but didn't flip it over to see who'd texted her.

A few seconds later it buzzed again.

"Are you going to get that?" Kakuzu asked. He sounded annoyed.

She looked from the phone to him and back. Then she sighed. "Yeah."

From: Tenten  
Timestamp: 12:17 PM  
Message body: Are you okay? Apparently there's an axe-murderer in your bedroom?

Sakura stared at her phone for a second.

"What..." she mumbled. "How?"

Kakuzu watched her over his plate with a blank expression and eyes that missed nothing.

The phone buzzed again.

From: PIG  
Timestamp: 12:18 PM  
Message body: Hinata says Kiba says you're living with a bunch of psychopaths? More importantly you're living with a bunch of GUYS? FOREHEAD WHY WAS I THE LAST TO HEAR ABOUT THIS?

Sakura looked at her phone for a few long moments.

"You know what?" she muttered to Kakuzu. "Nope. Just nope." Then she turned it off. She pushed back her chair and stood. "I'm going to the campus library. If I don't come back, _don't_ send a search party."

"Campus is closed," Kakuzu reminded her.

"Good," she said, a little impatiently. "It'll be empty."

He snorted softly, but didn't stop her.

She paid Konan for Kakuzu's lunch and headed out into the chilly streets.

Senjuu University had the advantage of being extremely close by. Maybe heading into the university when they were repairing structural damage wasn't Sakura's most sensible idea, but the sciences library was across the other side of the campus from the arts centre, so she figured it was pretty safe.

The automatic doors opened, suggesting to Sakura that there were probably some staff hanging around the campus today. No students, though, which made the place look a little disturbing in its emptiness.

Also, she'd been right. It was completely silent inside the library.

She'd had grand plans of pulling out some useful text books and taking notes, but she was tired and pissed off and she just didn't have it in her to concentrate that much.

Instead she curled into one of the seats at a study table and whipped out her increasingly-worn copy of Icha Icha Tactics. She was halfway through her second read-through so she may as well do the thing properly.

* * *

"Ah, that's the part where Keiko discovers that the microfilm is sewn into the lining of the Mariko's bikini and has to search her for it, isn't it?"

Sakura lurched awake. Her face was stuck to the desk next to her copy of Icha Icha Tactics, her breath ruffling the pages. She raised her head, blinking wildly around the library.

She came face to face with Kakashi-sensei's eyepatch. His other visible eye was crinkled into a smile.

He was perched on the desk, one leg kicking idly, leaning his face way too close to hers. When he saw she was waking properly, he leaned back.

"Uh," she said. She blinked some more. Mercy, but she was _tired_.

He tugged her copy of Icha Icha Tactics further away from her, examining the scene. "It is," he said with a satisfied nod. "I prefer Paradise, myself, but I think Tactics is a strong addition to the series."

What? Sakura squinted. "What time is it?"

Kakashi-sensei's visible eye flicked from her book to her face. "Oh... two thirty? Ish. You do know that the campus is _closed_, don't you?"

"Is it?" she gave him huge, innocent eyes.

The expression in his single visible eye said he wasn't having any of it. "Maa... Student-san, unless you want to spend the next month organising my student records in your free time, you may want to go now," he suggested.

Sakura felt her eyebrows rise. "Or somebody could gently suggest to Yamato-sempai that might like to check the _state_ of your student records," she countered. "I'm sure he'd be interested to learn that you hadn't handed back any of our first-week quizzes, too... All the other teachers have, Kakashi-sensei."

He smiled beneath the scarf. "Maa, that would be terrible," he sighed regretfully. "I suppose I'll have to call security, then. Can't have vulnerable first years wandering around the closed campus now, can we?" He tapped his chin. "It would be the responsible thing to do," he decided mournfully.

Damn. She glowered at him, but picked up her bag. Things had probably settled down at home by now, anyway. "Fine," she sniffed, kicking back her chair and getting to her feet. She held out her hand, eyeing her book.

Kakashi-sensei examined her palm.

"Hmm. You have a short life-line, Student-san," he commented cheerfully.

"I'll deal with it," she growled, and yanked Icha Icha from his grasp, turned on her heel, and stalked for the exit.

"Haruno," his voice was flat and hard and terribly serious all of a sudden.

She turned, looking at him over her shoulder. It was astonishing he even knew her name, considering how often he showed up to class.

"Don't let me catch you again." For a second there was a calculating look in his cool grey eye, but then he was smiling and saluting lazily at her. "Have a good week, Student-san!"

She left.

Kakashi-sensei was weirder than she'd thought.

But he had good taste in novels.

* * *

Sakura arrived home, unlocked the front door and sighed deeply. Somehow, impossibly, there was still the sound of chaos and fighting coming from down the hall. By now it had to be fighting for its own sake. She sighed and dropped her bag next to the door, pleased to relinquish the weight.

From deeper in the house, she heard Sasuke's voice crack on a pained bellow.

Jerking upright, Sakura went from a weary slouch to a dash, feet thumping on the corridor, door swinging freely behind her.

Her momentum meant she had to catch herself on the doorframe of the kitchen, and then her eyes skimmed past Sasori and Deidara, past Naruto, even past Itachi, searching for the source of the sound. She was just in time to see Sasuke looking pale and shocked. He covered his nose and mouth with one hand, but she could still see that his already- bruised face was bright with a fresh wash of blood.

Sakura took one gasping breath and swallowed hard. Her eyes moved to Hidan, with his stupid mean smile and his scraped knuckles, and for a second she loathed him with so intense a hatred she felt like she couldn't contain it. If she moved, she'd explode. Visions of violence snapped across her mind, vicious fantasies: thrown chairs, screaming with bared teeth and blood pounding, flesh that would give beneath her shaking fingers. She trembled.

Then there was a flash of black and a horrific, meaty _thunk_.

Sakura blinked. For a frozen second, she thought she'd somehow gained the ability to affect reality through _pure rage._

Hidan's right hand was pinned to the kitchen table by the blade of a boning knife. His fingers twitched and flexed uselessly against it, straining - rather counterproductively - against the blade. The curve of the steel was bright under the overhead lighting.

Hidan swore, once, very loudly, and then went on in a stream of really creatively foul invective. His voice rose to a crazed shriek somewhere between the phrases 'what the fuck is wrong with you?' and 'gonna yank out your guts and string you from the fucking ceiling fan.'  
Itachi straightened up, removing his white-knuckled hand from the kitchen knife. He looked at Hidan with his placid sloe eyes.

Everybody else in the room was very still. Hidan spat. He grabbed the handle and tugged. "Mother_fucker_," he growled when it hurt more than it moved.

"Hidan-san," Itachi said a faultlessly polite tone. "That was an extremely unwise decision."

Hidan swore at him, but didn't respond in any meaningful way, probably because he was busy trying to yank the knife out of his hand and the wooden tabletop without incurring further injury.

"Ah," said Itachi, turning to the doorway. "Sakura-san. It's good to see that you're safe. Please excuse me," he added. "I must take Sasuke to the emergency department."

He took Sasuke by the wrist.

"Eh?" Naruto's loud voice cut in. "The emergency department?" He leaned way into Sasuke's personal space, his nose an inch away from his friend's jaw. "Are you gonna be okay?"

"Shut up," said Sasuke, putting one hand on Naruto's looming face and shoving him away. Naruto sputtered and yelled, but Sakura was focused on her other friend. Sasuke's voice sounded all wrong: pained and nasal. Sakura thought his nose was probably broken, and she winced in sympathy.

Sasuke looked at Sakura hovering in the doorway. It was hard to tell his expression through his natural scowling countenance anyway, but all the blood made it nearly impossible. But she could definitely tell when he shifted his attention from Sakura to Itachi. His expression turned absolutely poisonous.

Sakura wasn't really sure what had gone on between them - Itachi had mentioned some kind of family difficulty, but Sasuke was tricky to handle and hard to communicate with on a good day. It seemed plain to her that she needed to keep her mouth shut about it.

While she was at it, she thought maybe she should not talk to either of them about the knife sticking out of Hidan's hand. "I hope you feel better soon, Sasuke," she said, polite out of sheer self-defence.

The comment drew his attention back to her. Sasuke took a breath through his mouth, probably gearing up for a really vicious commentary, but Itachi tugged on him.

"Come along, foolish little brother," he said serenely, ignoring his reluctance and foul looks, and drew him inexorably away down the corridor.

"Hey!" Naruto yelled after them. "Teme -"

He was cut off by the slam of the front door.

There was silence for a long moment, punctuated by the soundtrack of Hidan's angry curses.

"Itachi's fucked up, yeah," Deidara said, scratching his chin.

"Coming from the man who blew up a school building," Sasori noted. Sakura thought that this was a fairly good point, as it happened. Deidara was hardly in a position to be telling other people they were messed up.

Sakura took a deep breath. Her heart rate was slowing, and now she had the time to glance around the kitchen and - other than the occasional spatter of blood - take stock of what was actually going on.

At some point, Kakuzu had returned home, and now he was glowering while he inspected the place where Hidan's hand met the table.

"Just fucking hurry up," Hidan grumbled.

"Quiet," Kakuzu advised him tersely.

Deidara was perched on the edge of the table itself with one foot propped on the back of a chair. His hair and skin were blackened around the edges, and he looked tired and a little concerned about Itachi's mental state. He also looked kind of satisfied, which Sakura had to suspect meant that something, somewhere, was on fire. Sasori was leaning against the sink, coolly eyeing the room from a distance over a cup of the foul sludge he called coffee.

Naruto was bruised on the neck and his hands were scratched.

"Hi," said Sakura from the doorway, feeling a strange combination of pleasure and resentment. She was happy to see Naruto - and, actually, Sasuke, for the few minutes he was actually present. But she also didn't really enjoy the stupid chaos the pair had kicked up over Hidan.

She wasn't even going to think about how Itachi had _actually, seriously stabbed_ _somebody_ until she had some space.

"Are we all done being idiots now?" she inquired.

Naruto turned like he hadn't noticed her - somehow - and then scrambled over the table - Hidan shrieked at him - and slammed into her, wrapping his arms around her in a giant, slightly sweaty bear hug. "SAKURA-CHAN," he bellowed.

It was a relieved bellow, but she still kind of wanted to hit him for being an idiot. She heaved a deep sigh for patience and wriggled one arm free so she could pat his fluffy blond head instead. "Hi, Naruto," she said.

He looked at her with big, serious blue eyes. "Ne, ne, that guy..." he pointed over his shoulder at Hidan with one hand. His expression morphed into a scowl when his eyes fell on Hidan. "He was sleeping in your bed!"

Yes, she thought sourly, she'd noticed that. Along with, apparently, everybody else."Sleeping bag," she corrected, disentangling herself grumpily.

Naruto's eyes went wide. "So he _was_?"

"Naruto, you know he was, you saw him there," she pointed out.

She heard Hidan snort derisively. Tiredly, Deidara leaned over and thumped a closed fist on top of Hidan's head.

"Shut _up_, yeah."

"Motherf-!"

Kakuzu smacked a hand over Hidan's mouth.

"Shhh," said Sasori, staring at them with blank eyes over his cup. "It's quiet time now." His lips quirked around the edges.

Slowly, Kakuzu removed his hand. Hidan's bright eyes glowered at him. Through what seemed like some kind of Herculean effort, he said nothing.

"I'm going to remove the knife," Kakuzu said, slowly and carefully, like he was talking to a small, intellectually troubled child. "You will want to stay still."

Deidara snorted. "Unlikely, yeah," he said, watching the proceedings with interest.

"Shut the fuck up," Hidan growled. His voice broke on a pained yelp when Kakuzu gripped the handle of the knife and _yanked_.

It came out in a wash of blood and a stream of cursing.

"Sakura-chan~!" Hands descended onto Sakura's shoulders from behind. She jumped and yelped.

Tobi reeled back, clutching his ear and pouting. "Oww," he said. "Sakura-chan is _loud_."

Sakura pressed a hand to her chest and exhaled slowly. "You startled me," she said lamely. She was beginning to suspect that Tobi got a thrill out of making other people jump in shock.

"Not as loud as you," said Deidara darkly, looking over his shoulder briefly before returning his gaze to Hidan and Kakuzu.

"Mou, sempai," he said petulantly, looking at Deidara's back with huge, wobbling eyes. "So mean."

"Ne, ne, Sakura-chan," Naruto said, recapturing her attention as he started waving his bruised hands. He looked terribly earnest. "You can't just let strange men sleep in your bed! Especially not guys like that!" he pointed at Hidan dramatically.

Sakura raised her eyebrows at him. "Is that so," she said, feeling that what she did with her own bed - sleeping bag! - was her decision and not really his.

He nodded emphatically. "A guy and a girl sleeping together, that's..." he waved one hand. It was an expressive gesture to be sure, but she couldn't absolutely determine what it was expressing.

"That's..?"

"It's perverted!" he blurted.

"It wasn't," she said flatly. And if it had been, that would be her business. But she couldn't say that here, because if Hidan heard her suggest something like that he'd never shut up about it. "He was hurt. I needed to keep an eye on him."

That was her story and she was sticking to it. 'He was hurt,' doubtless sounded a lot better than, 'he begged and bitched and I was sleepy and lazy.'

"It's not because it's perverted," Deidara said, shifting his perch on the table to face them. He kept rubbing a blister on the outside of his arm. It seemed to hurt, because he flinched, but he kept on doing it.

Naruto whirled on him, more interested in arguing with Deidara than listening to Sakura. "Eh? It is too perverted! When a guy and a girl sleep together, they -" he trailed off, flushing red around the edges.

Sasori snorted quietly.

"Not that, nobody cares about that," Deidara waved that off. "It's because it's _Hidan_, yeah?"

"Hey!" snapped Hidan, jerking toward Deidara.

Kakuzu, who was trying to patch him up, still had a grip on his hand. He reached up and smacked Hidan on the nose like a naughty kitten.

Hidan turned on him furiously and opened his mouth to speak. Kakuzu did something to his hand that made the blond trail off in blistering curses instead of finishing whatever he was going to say.

"Tobi is just glad Sakura-chan is okay," he said, beaming down at her. He patted her head gently with one hand. "Everybody was worried!"

"Define 'everybody'," Sasori murmured to his coffee.

"Define _worried_," Hidan growled.

"_I_ was worried," Deidara interrupted. "You didn't answer your phone," he said, brows furrowing.

"I was at work. Hidan-san and Kakuzu-san knew where I was, and Sasori-san called Konan-san. It was fine. There was absolutely no need to freak out and run around like idiots just because you found another living person in my space," she added with a glower for Naruto.

"But it was a _guy_!" Naruto said again. He sounded terribly distressed by this fact. Sakura was torn between wanting to make him feel better and wanting to smack him.

"It was _Hidan_," Deidara repeated.

Hidan lunged at him, ripping his hand out of Kakuzu's grasp. The scarred man looked down at his empty hands, heaved a sigh, and began packing the first aid supplies away.

Deidara and Hidan went toppling to the floor in a clatter of wood and metal. Unsurprisingly, Deidara took hold of Hidan's injured hand and squeezed his fingers tightly.

"FUCK," Hidan bellowed, hooking his leg behind Deidara's. The shorter man yelped and went sprawling over, cracking his head against the tiles. Hidan kneed him in the gut.

Wheezing and struggling not to contract into a ball to protect his belly, Deidara found some leverage to tumble them over. He landed with a lean thigh either side of Hidan's rib cage, with his teeth bared and his face alight with anticipation. He squeezed harder on Hidan's hand.

Hidan hissed and dissolved into pained cursing. There was blood on the tiles.

Deidara made a wild, pleased little sound of satisfaction.

"I don't think you should live with these guys," said Naruto, eyeing the pile of long, lean-muscled limbs and messy blond hair. "They seem dangerous."

"I don't think _these guys_ should be living with these guys," she said, laughing and hoping he'd drop that idea immediately. She went to the sink to get a glass of water, careful not to get too far into Sasori's personal space. If there was a single thing she'd learned about Sasori, it was that he liked his personal space. He could get a little restless if it was infringed upon too often.

"Yeah," Naruto said, still watching the Hidan And Deidara Show playing out on the floor, "but you're a girl. And they're _guys_. It's more dangerous for you, you could get really hurt."

Sakura breathed a sigh. She drained her water and patted his shoulder gently. "That's nice, Naruto," she said. "Shouldn't you be at the hospital with Sasuke?"

Naruto frowned at her. "Pretty sure I should stay here with you," he said mulishly, glancing over to Sasori and Kakuzu.

"Really?" she said quietly, leaning closer. "I don't think Sasuke necessarily wants to be all alone with his brother." Then she paused. "And I have laundry and homework to do," she added thoughtfully in a more normal voice.

It was much more likely that she'd spend time mopping Hidan's blood from last night off her floorboards, but Naruto probably didn't need to know that.

He eyed her stubbornly. She reminded herself that he was genuinely worried for her and she didn't really need to punch him.

She huffed. "What is it that you want me to do?" she asked directly, crossing her arms over her breasts.

"Find someone else to stay with until you get a new place?" he suggested.

Kakuzu's head snapped up. She saw it in her periphery.

"...No," she said with a sigh.

"Come on, Sakura-chan. Isn't Hinata-chan going to university here?"

"Yes, but I'm not moving out. I just got here." Sakura turned away. "Did you bring my bed?" she wondered.

"It's in your room." He said, but he was still watching her with furrowed brows.

"Awesome," she said cheerfully. "Thanks," she added, moving closer and giving him a one-armed hug. For a second he didn't return it and then, reluctantly, he wrapped one arm around her waist.

"Sakura-chan..."

"_No_," she repeated, ruffling his blond hair with one hand. It was surprisingly soft. "Don't even go there, okay?"

His big blue eyes looked immeasurably sad, but he relented. "If you have any problems - _any problems_ -" he looked at Hidan, who was clutching his injured thigh and trying to choke Deidara one-handed, "call me. Or Sasuke. Teme's probably closer."

"Sure," lied Sakura easily, pleased to have won without much of a fight. Then she steered Naruto toward the corridor. She changed the subject without any pretence at subtlety. "Seriously, was Sasuke's nose broken? I didn't get a good look."

"That blond bastard hit him in the face," Naruto said, glancing balefully over his shoulder at Hidan one last time. Reluctantly he added, "I probably should go wait with him..."

"I'm sure he'd appreciate that," said Sakura, still lying through her teeth.

Tobi then helpfully - but probably unintentionally - obscured his view of the kitchen by taking up the doorway, waving brightly to him. "Bye-bye~!" he called sweetly.

"Thank you for bringing my furniture," Sakura said cheerfully once she'd persuaded Naruto all the way to the door and gently manoeuvred him onto the verandah. "It's a really big help."

Naruto tucked one hand behind his head. "Aah, well, I'm here to help," he said.

He still didn't look entirely cheerful but she thought he'd recover by the time he reached home again, given that the next several hours would probably be taken up with annoying Sasuke in the emergency department waiting room.

Sakura closed the door and sagged against it, enjoying the dim light and relative calm in the hallway. She could still hear the muffled arguing of Deidara and Hidan in the kitchen.

Somebody should probably do something about Hidan's injured hand.

Somebody who wasn't her.

Sakura heaved a sigh, feeling a weird combination of tired, resentful and guilty. She didn't really want to go back in there, actually. She could go up to her room and hide there, but she wasn't really prepared to face the blood stains on the floor. She didn't really want to see the bed, either. It was a symbol of Naruto's kindness, like a tangible guilt trip that would be haunting her bedroom.

She probably could have been nicer to Naruto.

She rubbed her hair back from her forehead. Dammit.

Restless. That was it. She was feeling restless.

Decisively, Sakura headed upstairs to find her sneakers. She returned to the ground floor in black shorts and a red sleeveless top, then dug around for her mp3 player.

Then she ignored Tobi calling out to her and went for a run.

Fifteen minutes later she was wondering why any person would do such an awful thing to herself.

Twenty minutes after _that_, she felt like actually, maybe this wasn't so bad and she could actually just keep running in these nice, easy five minute intervals for an hour. That wouldn't be so bad.

An hour and ten minutes after she'd left, Sakura saw her own street again and almost wept out of sheer gratitude. Her lungs ached, her shoulders were tight, her soles were burning and her legs weren't sure they existed anymore.

She could feel sweat rolling down one side of her face, and she was betting that her bright red skin probably looked awful against her sweaty pink hair.

_So classy._

Sakura knew she probably looked a complete fright, and found herself hoping nobody in her house managed to get a glimpse of her before she'd stretched and showered.

She didn't feel restless anymore, though.

After she teetered precariously up the stairs to the second floor, she showered - for a value of 'showered' that meant 'existed wearily under the hot water for a while and kind of half-heartedly patted some soap' - and then went to her bedroom.

Somebody - presumably Naruto, because she couldn't really imagine any of the others doing it- had assembled her bed and managed to get the mattress on the base. She felt a little flare of guilt in her guts at the sight.

With a sigh, she grabbed her phone, turned it on and, ignoring the other texts piled up, opened a new one to Naruto.

To: The Great Uzumaki Naruto, King of Ramen  
Timestamp: 5:35 PM  
Message body: Hey, bed! You have no idea how happy I am to be reunited with that thing. Thanks for setting it up. : )

Guilt assuaged, Sakura closed and locked her door. She examined the stains on her floor and the flaky bits of old blood in her sleeping bag - which was, by the by, completely gross - and looked longingly at her solid, wooden-framed bed and its old but comfy mattress.

She decided she had just enough energy to put some sheets on the bed and crawl inside. Cleaning up Hidan's mess could wait for the morning.

Ignoring everything else, Sakura flopped into her bed. She slept the sleep of the righteous and it was good.

* * *

**Author's Note**: This chapter was _not_ one of those nice, entertaining chapters that just write themselves. This chapter was kind of a pain in the arse.

I should apologise for the length of these author's notes. You can stop reading here if you like!

Today there was some more interaction between Sakura's friends and the Akatsuki just for **Anbu-chan.** Was it everything you hoped for? Or did you imagine fewer broken noses? : P

Thank you to **naremon**, **aHappyAnon**, **betweenwaters, rabid-fan11322**, the very kind **La Nuit Noire**, **Angry-Paradox**, **Shadowlove'scookies, Analelle, mun3litKnight, Sidereum Nocte, Sharkbait-ooohaha, Guest Lily** (phone typing is the worst, seriously), and **Scarletknight17.**

Omg, **telekinesis1728**, of course I missed you, I pay close attention to my reviewers because I am a crazy person. : P Also, man, that's kind of awesome. All my friends who actually read fanfic are in other fandoms. Booo.

**BloodieReader**, Madara will definitely be making a reappearance. Have no fear of that. : )

**memento-mori316**, my gut reaction to your review was "Noooo! Don't dooo iit!" Most of the stuff on my profile is really old and not very good, lol. I'm glad you liked this story though.

**Guest-san** who commented on April 20, Sakura did indeed get to see Naruto and Sasuke. I think she's more likely to see Sasuke again soon than Naruto, but we will see.

**Firerosemon**, this fic has only got a few fixed pairings in my mind, so almost anything's possible. Also I am going to keep your love in a jar under the desk and take it out to admire on dark and stormy nights.

I think because their relationship is a little antagonistic, at least right now, Sakura and Kakashi will probably not get many bonding moments in general, **XSilentxAngelX.**

**Of Healing Love**, the rating has indeed returned to T, but only because I decided the scene with the goat wasn't actually that M-rated. I am pretty likely to change the rating as necessary, and I think that it's likely to rise later. Maybe not for sexy reasons (but maybe for sexy reasons! Who knows), but I'm bound to put something in here that won't go down well in the T category. : P

Gentle but awesome suggestions from **22snowy** and **Galimaufry** made on this story about queer ladies in Naurto led to me writing _In Which Diplomacy Is Very Important_, which isn't part of this AU at all but was kind of an experiment? I'm not going to say it's super in character, but it was fun at least! 

**Question for brave reviewers: **If you could have tea with any one character from the Narutoverse, who would it be? What would you want to talk to that person about? Personally I think I'd have tea with Tsunade. And by tea I mean _booze_.


	11. Chapter 11

Sakura contemplates the problem of Itachi, has brief weird chats with Zetsu (as you do) and Sasori (as you generally don't), contemplates violence, goes jogging with the boys from the Nekketsu Dojo, studies a lot, and asks somebody out on a date.

* * *

Sakura woke up again much later. She blinked fuzzily around at her bedroom, confused by her higher-than-expected vantage point atop her bed. Then she remembered the day's events and rolled over, covering her face and groaning pathetically.

A second later she sat bolt upright and scrambled for her phone.

She didn't bother texting Sasuke - he rarely responded. Instead she called him and then huddled on her bed in the dark with the glowing phone pressed to her ear.

"You have reached the message bank of," said an overly-friendly automated voice, and then other voices, in bright counterpoint, "UCHIHA USAGI-CHAAAA-" "-ZUMAKI! Give me the -" something crashed, and then static.

Sakura rolled her eyes and hung up. After a second's consideration, she called Itachi.

She had exactly one ring to think _oh my god I am calling Itachi what do I say help help abort!_ He did her the very great favour of picking up on the second ring and cutting short the time she could think about it. "Sakura-san? Is everything okay? It's past midnight."

Sakura dropped her head into her palm. Past midnight. She hadn't even checked. At least Itachi didn't sound sleepy. She wasn't sure if she could handle the embarrassment of waking him up in the middle of the night.

On the other hand, she'd get to hear his deep voice all groggy and sleepy-sounding... Hmm.

"Why the hell does she have _your_ number?" she heard Sasuke's voice come out as a slurred, unhappy hiss.

"I'm sorry, I didn't even check the time - I just woke up," she said, more confidently than she felt. Itachi was going to think she was an idiot. If he didn't already. Dammit. It was a good thing he couldn't see her, because she was definitely red. Again. "Everything's fine, thank you. I just wanted to make sure Sasuke was okay? He didn't answer his phone."

"I see," said Itachi very neutrally. "His nose is broken, but they said there would be no complications. I'm just driving him home now. Sasuke, it's for you," he said then, and there was a fuzzy moment, a mumbled curse, and the strangely loud sound of a ticking car indicator.

Then: "Why do you have that bastard's phone number?" Sasuke growled into the phone. If Itachi said anything in response to that insult, she didn't hear it.

"He helped me find a house," she said breezily.

Sasuke grunted. It didn't really seem like a happy sort of grunt. She considered what Sasuke knew of her housemates and had to admit they probably hadn't made a great impression.

"How's your face?" Sakura asked, eager to change the subject.

"It's fine," he said.

"Good," she said.

There was a silence.

"Is that all you wanted?" Sasuke asked finally.

Sakura made an annoyed noise. Really, she didn't know why she bothered calling in the first place. Except, of course, that a little sliver of guilt and worry was assuaged inside her now. Sasuke was going to be fine. Thank god.

"Pretty much," she agreed.

"Okay," said Sasuke, and then he hung up.

Sakura would have been more offended, but Sasuke was Sasuke. He made Kakuzu look positively chatty.

She flopped back to her bed. Her bad feelings were assuaged, but her curiosity was piqued once again. There was something very unpleasant about how those Uchiha brothers interacted, and she couldn't for the life of her figure out what had gone wrong between them. They didn't seem like the type to clash - Itachi didn't seem like the type to clash with anybody -

Her train of thought derailed there.

Because hadn't Itachi stabbed Hidan just a few hours ago?

Like, actually stabbed him. With a knife.

Sakura's brain wasn't really ready to process that idea. Itachi was... quiet, strangely kind, very polite. He didn't stand out in her mind as a dangerous person.

But when Hidan had gone after Sasuke, Itachi had _flipped_.

She wondered if it was just because Sasuke was his little brother. People were supposed to have strong feelings about things like that, weren't they? Sakura was an only child, so she wasn't sure. Maybe Itachi just had a violent streak.

She frowned uncertainly.

Somebody should probably check on Hidan, she thought, but she really didn't want it to be her. She wondered if Kakuzu would do it. Perhaps, in the interest of Hidan being well enough to go to work and pay his rent.

Hmm, yes, that sounded like Kakuzu.

At least you never had to worry about his motives.

She probably wouldn't be able to get back to sleep easily, now that she'd woken herself up so thoroughly. Sakura rolled out of bed and padded to the balcony, where she threw the doors open. It was a nice night outside, with a gentle breeze and a clear sky. The stars shone bright above.

She was mildly surprised to find her neighbour perched on the railing of his balcony, legs swinging freely over a long drop, a steaming cup of something cradled in one hand. Clearly not afraid of heights, then.

He looked over at her. There was better light out this time, and she could definitely see that his colouring was different on either side of his body. Sakura had no idea what could cause that. Pigment disorders weren't usually quite so well-organised.

"Ah... Zetsu-san, was it?"

"Aa," he agreed. He looked over at her. "Your housemates were very lively today, Sakura-san," he commented. "Although they seemed to calm down a bit when you arrived home."

"Uh..." she paused. "Yeah, sorry about that. They kind of overreacted to a few things and I think it all got a bit out of hand..." Very out off hand, what with the nose-breaking and the stabbing and all.

"Mm," said Zetsu placidly. "Well, that sort of thing can happen." If he was disturbed by any of the screaming or violence or - she suspected from the smell - burning things, he didn't show it.

"You seem very calm about it, Zetsu-san," she pointed out, peering more closely at him. Once you ignored the strange condition of his skin, his face had very fine features.

"They're very loud," he growled, eyes narrowed and malicious. Then the expression dropped away and everything was serene again. His golden eyes flicked to her. "I wouldn't live next door to them if I wasn't used to it," he said mildly.

"Uh," she said again. "Right."

"People like that..." he sipped his tea again, stroking the leaf of a potted datura bush when it caught his attention by shivering in the night breeze. "They're always going to cause a mess."

"People like that?" Sakura raised her eyebrows. While she admitted that he was probably right, she could think of no way in which the other four inhabitants of the house could be grouped as one. They were so different.

He turned to her. He was so strange looking, she almost couldn't judge his expression because of his strange pigmentation. "With the work they do," he said, waving one hand casually.

Sakura paused. "Right," she agreed.

"We should poison them all and get some sleep," he said, not unpleasantly. Then his brow furrowed. "No, that wouldn't be kind."

"It wouldn't," Sakura agreed. "Poison is definitely not a kind solution."

"She's right," he murmured, and then made a very disdainful noise in his throat.

Sakura officially had no idea what was going on anymore. "Um..." she said slowly. "Are you all right?"

"What?" he snapped. Then he blinked at her. "I have a condition," he said a little defensively.

Sakura's knee-jerk response was to answer with 'yes, that was becoming obvious,' but she held back with a Herculean effort of will. "Oh," she said instead. She wasn't quite sure how to respond to that. "Does it have to do with..." she waved vaguely - and probably rudely, she realised with a wince - at his skin.

He looked at his mismatched hands. "None of your business," he hissed, glowering up at her.

She flinched and held up her hands defensively. "Sorry," she said quickly. "I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine. Ignore him. No, my skin is something different." He paused. "You might say I'm special," he added drily, showing her his teeth. Was that a smile? She wasn't sure.

Also: Ignore _him_?

He followed her gaze back to his hands. "It was a monobenzone accident," he said serenely.

_Monobenzone_? Was he joking? He sounded very serious. She wondered how somebody had managed to accidentally put skin-lightening medication on exactly one half of his body for several months until it became permanently lighter.

She blinked twice, and then decided not to ask. He probably just didn't want to talk about it. "I see," she said, in a tone that indicated that she very much did not.

Zetsu nodded solemnly. "Are you having difficulty sleeping again?" he inquired.

She shook her head. "Not really. I went to bed at five something, so I can't get back to sleep now."

Even if she had been having trouble sleeping, she probably wouldn't have admitted to it, given what had happened last time. She had no desire to be faced with an awkward situation where she had to find some way to refuse another drugged brew.

Honestly, Zetsu seemed like a much better candidate for suddenly losing his mind and stabbing somebody than Itachi had.

He nodded and didn't pursue that line of questioning.

"Do you have a job, Zetsu-san?" she asked quietly after a few moments. The silence wasn't uncomfortable, but she was definitely curious about him.

"A little gardening, here and there," he said, lifting one shoulder in a delicate shrug. He patted the datura again, like it was some kind of beloved pet. "I like the poisonous ones the best."

"You seem to be very good at it," Sakura said politely. "I'm terrible at gardening," she confessed after a second of watching him fondle the plant. "I almost killed a rosemary bush once."

"Are you retarded?" he said derisively. Sakura blinked, but didn't respond immediately. She was starting to pick up a pattern to his rude outbursts. After a moment, Zetsu turned his eyes back to her. "That is... impressive," he murmured.

It was almost as though he hadn't even been around to hear that first comment. How confusing. Sakura shook her head and smiled politely. "I think, for the plants' sake, I'd better not try any gardening of my own."

Zetsu drained the rest of his cup. "I think that might be for the best," he said, with a half-smile in her direction. "I will begin to feel sleepy soon, so it's best I return inside. Good night, Sakura-san."

"Goodnight," she said, and watched him go. Despite his strange colouring and the relative brightness of the moon and stars in the clear night, he seemed to disappear into the shadows of his balcony with astonishing ease.

Sakura didn't stay out much longer than he did.

What a strange man, she thought as she settled back into bed that night. She wasn't sure what to make of him, except that he was fascinating and maybe a little creepy. And that he seemed to be taking careful watch of all the house's comings and goings.

Huh.

...maybe she'd better get up and double check that her balcony door was locked, too.

* * *

The rest of the week passed in a blur. Sasori retreated to his room in silence and secrecy, and for the most part only the changes in the level of instant coffee in the jar assured Sakura that he was actually still alive.

Hidan's injuries didn't seem to hold him back much, despite his continued refusal to accept painkillers. Kakuzu seemed to be having some kind of issue with that man, because he rose to the bait every time Hidan did something to instigate an argument. It couldn't be worth Kakuzu's time - in the literal sense, even.

Deidara wasn't precisely holding back, either, and given the frequency with which Hidan chose to be provocative or cruel, it was a very violent week.

Sakura skirted the edges of this violence with increasingly practised ease. After a while, the sounds of furious battle seemed more or less commonplace. They raised her heart rate a bit, but she didn't bother to feel too concerned about a fight unless somebody pulled a weapon.

She wasn't entirely sure she was ever going to get used to that level of casual violence, but exposure certainly made her feel more kindly disposed toward Itachi. Maybe he'd just had the very great advantage of context.

She discovered that it was actually Deidara who was the most likely to escalate to weaponry - and even when he wasn't brandishing an aerosol can and a stove lighter with utterly reckless excitement, he had no qualms about directing his opponent into a wall, a random piece of furniture, or, in one notably vicious case, into a visiting Tobi. Probably, Sakura decided, it was because he was a lot shorter than Hidan or Kakuzu.

But it wasn't like Deidara was the only one who seemed to assume that pulling out seriously lethal weapons was something to be taken in stride. Kakuzu she'd seen pull on a pair of aging leather gloves with heavy lead plates across the knuckles, and Hidan always seemed to have some kind of bladed weapon on him, even if he seemed to prefer using his bare hands.

Sasori didn't seem to have much time for petty violence, or, in fact, anything except whatever he got up to alone in his room. Initially Sakura thought that this was because the man was _tiny_, and in a fight with, say, Kakuzu, he'd be vastly outmatched by sheer weight. However, it turned out that this assumption was grossly underestimating the redhead's pure viciousness. But strangely, he didn't seem to thrill to the possibility of violence like the others did.

"It's a waste of time to start fights," he said at one point when Sakura hesitantly questioned him. She wouldn't have hesitated with the others, but she still felt like she barely knew Sasori. "There are many things I could spend that time doing. It bores me."

They were in the kitchen, a chance meeting during Sakura's latest attempt to cook something healthy for herself. The vegetables looked very nutritious, by which she meant unappetising.

"You're certainly very good at it, though," she pointed out, helpfully fetching his cup as she avoided eating her spinach.

He eyed the cup in her hand and then, after a second, took it from her. "I didn't say I couldn't, just that fighting is usually not the most expedient way to get what I want," he said shortly. "I hate wasting time."

Sakura didn't really know what to say to that. It stood to reason that Sasori wasn't a pacifist, since he certainly didn't pull his punches. But that was still rather cold, wasn't it...?

"So I don't start fights," he said after a second, in a very flat and serious voice. He mixed up his horrible coffee and drew away from the bench. "But I do finish them."

And with that comment, he left.

"Well," muttered Sakura to her spinach. "Thank god that wasn't really ominous or anything."

The following week the university campus finally opened again, and classes resumed as normal. Between catching up on the missed week and getting to her shifts at TRIVIA, Sakura felt like she had barely any time to breathe.

Gai-sensei and Lee didn't stop showing up at her balcony at stupid o'clock, though. Tenten was usually with them, but occasionally Sakura received a text message letting her know that the other girl was busy with something else - usually another kind of training, as it happened.

It barely mattered, since Sakura didn't even fight them anymore. She just rolled out of bed, pulled on her leggings and sneakers, and let them inside so they could go out through the front door. Gai-sensei seemed to accept this surrender as a show of her 'youthful vigour.' Sakura thought it was more like a compromise based on the sad fact that she didn't have the resources to waste time and energy refusing him and then capitulating to his persuasive force anyway.

She was actually starting to understand Sasori's perspective, in a less psychopathic sort of way. Fighting about stuff could be a waste of time she couldn't afford.

It helped that running was getting easier. It was maybe not a drastic improvement, but the biggest muscles in her legs didn't ache anymore, and she could run for eight-minute blocks without feeling like she was going to pass out, throw up or both.

She still staggered home covered in sweat and trembling, though.

Gai-sensei cheerfully informed her that if she wasn't feeling like that she wasn't doing it right.

"Okay," she said, too exhausted to bother arguing. "Have a good day," she waved vaguely at the pair of crazy people.

Lee shot her a thumbs up and a blinding smile.

In basically every other moment, though, Sakura spent as much time studying and working at the cafe as she could.

"It's a really good feeling to have your savings grow in a positive direction again," she said, watching Deidara mix another new glaze without any protective gear. At least he wasn't in the kitchen this time. Instead, because it was a lovely, still evening, they were on the verandah. Sakura was flopped across the dilapidated old couch out there and Deidara was cross-legged and barefoot on a faded cushion.

"I'll have to take your word on it, yeah," Deidara said, scrunching up his nose. "Any money I make goes into projects."

"Yeah, art seems like it would be an expensive course of study," Sakura admitted. "Kakuzu-san says you're just bad at saving money, though," she added with a tiny, provocative grin.

"Kakuzu has absolutely no idea of the point, value or quality of art," Deidara said scornfully. "Since it means nothing to him, his opinion is about as valuable as a fuse without a light."

"Probably," Sakura murmured, closing her eyes. She kind of wanted to just drift off there. She could be reasonably sure that Deidara would wake her up before he went inside, and the couch was astonishingly comfy despite its ugliness.

Then reality reasserted itself and she opened her eyes again with a groan. "I should be studying," she confessed. Her voice came out so flat and unenthused that she almost sounded the way Kakuzu did about most things.

"Screw studying," Deidara said cheerfully. "Have a drink with me, hang out here - oh, oh! When it gets properly dark we can set off fireworks! It'll be fun, yeah." He grinned at her.

That _did_ sound like fun. Sakura contemplated it longingly.

"Nnngggh," she said after a while. "Nope," she sighed. "Gotta be ready to answer Tsunade-sama's totally random questions tomorrow morning. I mean, don't get me wrong, she's amazing. But she's also completely awful. She just points at people and shouts questions about things we covered ages ago, or something we're not meant to cover for another week, or really obscure stuff from the supplementary readings."

"That sounds like some kind of medieval torture, yeah." Deidara looked like he couldn't think of a worse possible way to spend his time. "I'd rather have sex with a thumbscrew, yeah."

"Graphic," Sakura snorted.

"True fact," he countered.

Eventually she heaved herself off the couch and went upstairs to study. She was completely unsurprised when she saw bright flashes lighting up the night sky two hours later. Deidara was fully capable of entertaining himself, after all.

* * *

Once university was open again, Sakura had ample opportunity to run into Itachi again and again, and she was determined to be prepared.

She was _very_ prepared.

"This is getting ridiculous," she said at one point to the mirror in the girls' loo. Her shift at TRIVIA was finished, and now she was carefully applying mascara on the off chance that out of the tens of thousands of people who studied at Senjuu University she might run into Itachi.

It was becoming kind of crazy and neurotic.

Maybe her housemates were starting to rub off on her?

At any rate, it had to be stopped. She was much too old for this idiocy, surely.

She rubbed her forehead, glowering at her reflection. She didn't even like wearing makeup.

"Well," she decided to her reflection finally. "I guess I'll just have to get it out of my system."

There was nothing else for it. She'd have to ask him out.

* * *

Sakura tried to send several texts to Ino. She typed them out, read them, reread them, and discarded them one by one. The prospect of her enthusiasm - and her passive-aggressive gloating in the event of failure - was too daunting.

To: Tenten  
Timestamp: 10:16 PM  
Message body: It's okay for a girl to ask a guy out, right?

To: Tenten  
Timestamp: 10:16 PM  
Message body: hypothetically, I mean.

From: Tenten  
Timestamp: 10:19 PM  
Message body: i think so? can't see why it would matter unless it's some stupid guy thing. brb getting a male pov

To: Tenten  
Timestamp: 10:20 PM  
Message body: YOU CAN'T TELL ANYBODY. YOU DEFINITELY CAN'T TELL LEE.

From: Tenten  
Timestamp: 10:28 PM  
Message body: you are very concerned about this hypothetical situation ;) neji says anybody who is insulted rather than flattered must be unworthy of my attention and should be shot.

From: Tenten  
Timestamp: 10:30 PM  
Message body: also now neji thinks i have some secret unrequited love who turned me down. omg you owe me.

To: Tenten  
Timestamp: 10:31 PM  
Message body: You're the best.

From: Tenten  
Timestamp: 10:45 PM  
Message body: i accept tribute in the form of free food.

* * *

It was still a terrifying prospect. So terrifying, in fact, that she chickened out the first two times she saw him in a crowd of people at Senjuu and ran away with a rapid heart beat and a sweaty face.

"You're ridiculous," she muttered to herself, staring at her ceiling in the darkness at night. "This is stupid."

Tomorrow, she thought.

If she saw Itachi tomorrow, she'd do it. Somehow.

She went to sleep half-hoping she didn't run across him the next day.

* * *

Sakura did, of course.

She almost literally ran into him while she was leaving the student centre. There was a blind corner and then she was suddenly face to face with Uchiha Itachi.

In the time since she'd last seen him he'd somehow become more attractive. How could somebody like him actually be real? She didn't understand at all. She ached just looking at him, like the fact of his existence was causing her brain some obscure kind of pain.

And that was _before_ he opened his mouth and had to be polite and charming and so painfully, subtly sweet. God.

She felt stupid and terribly insecure, and like her face was rapidly going hot.

"It was very good of you to call," Itachi said to her, sounding a little stilted. "Sasuke was on strong pain medication, so perhaps he wasn't at his best, but I'm sure he appreciates -"

"Itachi-san," said Sakura, holding up one slightly trembly hand to stall him. She had no idea how to segue from 'your brother got kind of badly injured, gee, that's bad' to 'please date me!' She swallowed. "I can honestly tell you that I didn't notice. I've known Sasuke for years. He's _always_ like that."

Itachi looked a little lost for a second. "He... wasn't like that when I was younger," he said.

In the part of her brain she wasn't presently dedicated to panic, Sakura wondered how long it had been since Itachi had actually sat down and spoken to Sasuke, because she couldn't for the life of her remember a time when he'd been friendly or talkative. And, come to think of it, Itachi hadn't even spoken to his brother at their graduation ceremony...

She frowned. It didn't sound like the kind of relationship worth stabbing somebody for. She couldn't puzzle them out. She didn't want to upset or offend Itachi by asking. While she _could_ ask Sasuke she was certain he'd either deflect or just stop talking to her.

It was probably best - and certainly easiest - not to pry. "It might be for the better, really," she said, feeling her lips quirk. She felt more settled talking about this sort of thing. She relaxed a little - just a little, though. Her muscles still felt like taut wires. "If he smiled at all, ever, the female half of our graduating class may not have made it through the year."

Itachi didn't really smile a lot. His expressions got amused, or softened around the edges. That was what he did now, cutting a glance at her with pleased eyes.

She'd promised herself.

She had to do it.

If she didn't, she'd never know.

She swallowed. "Itachi-san," she said with a frantically pounding heart.

He looked at her attentively. His pleased expression drifted closer to concern.

Red faced and sweating and trembling, Sakura realised that she probably looked like the wrath of an unkind god.

That was exactly the impression she wanted to make, of course.

"Um," she said. Could she actually say this? She had to, if she wanted to know. She licked her lips nervously. "I was wondering if, ah, maybe you wanted to... go out some time? Like..." she paused. She could do this. She was three quarters of the way there. "On a date?"

He blinked at her for a moment.

His expression was a lot more surprised than pleased.

Oh, that was bad.

Her face was burning. She felt a bit light headed.

"Oh," he said at last. Then, with so much sincerity it made her heart ache for him: "Sakura-san, I'm so sorry."

Oh, _god_. Shame made her feel sick. She wondered what he'd do if she just vomited. "No! It's okay," she waved her hands wildly. Her breath was probably coming too fast. "It's fine! You don't have to apologise, it's -"

He caught one of her wrists to still her flailing. "Sakura-san," he said, giving her a tiny and sincere, if regretful smile. "It's nothing to do with you, I promise. I have a partner."

"You... you do?" What! How come she'd never heard anything about the girl? Her eyebrows furrowed. "Oh," she said lamely.

He let go of her and took a deep breath.

"My," he was flushing a little, a faint and high thing across his cheeks. Five minutes ago the sight would probably have made her faint. "Ah, my housemate," he said rubbing the back of his neck. "He's - well, it's fairly new."

"Your..." she paused. "He?" Another pause. "_Oh_. You - you don't like girls," she said after a second.

"Not exactly, no."

"Oh," she said stupidly.

"I'm sorry if I did anything that seemed like I was leading you on, Sakura-san, I certainly didn't intend to."

She stared at him. Itachi? _Gay_? He didn't seem gay. She wasn't even entirely sure how to process the idea. Her brain was busy firing electrical signals to nowhere: abort! abort! Reboot in safe mode.

Itachi looked at her, and there was an awful guarded wariness creeping in behind his eyes. "Sakura-san?" he asked her cautiously.

"I'm sorry," she said, feeling very embarrassed. "I didn't think - It's just a surprise, is all. Um, not that there's anything wrong with that. At all. Definitely not." She paused.

Itachi relaxed a little bit and that guarded look dissipated. "I see," he said carefully.

She might as well be honest, she supposed. "I just feel like a complete idiot now," she sighed. "I'll probably need some time to get over that." And, well, rejection hurt. Even if it wasn't because of some kind of deficiency on her part. That fact blunted the blow, but it still hurt.

Itachi gave her a considering look. "I can understand that," he said.

"You must think I'm horrible," she blurted, feeling another swell of embarrassment. "I didn't even _think_ of that."

"Sakura-san," he said drily. "I promise this isn't the worst response I've received."

It probably wasn't the best, though. She was silent for a few long moments. They looked at each other. Itachi seemed as serene as ever, his face blank and his body language undemanding. She liked that about him, his ability to exist in comfortable silence with another person.

She liked a lot of things about him, actually.

Sakura swallowed again. "I... we can still be friends, right?" she asked.

Itachi blinked. After a second, his lips curved in a second sincere smile. "I'd like that, Sakura-san."

"Just Sakura," she said firmly. "I don't need honorifics among friends."

He gave her a surprised look, but acquiesced gracefully. "Itachi, then," he agreed.

"So," said Sakura, trying to put her mortification aside. "When do I get to meet your boyfriend?"

Itachi's expressions might have been wholly under his control, but his capillaries sure weren't. His blushes were _awesome_.

"I don't..." he eyed her.

She raised her eyebrows at him.

"I'll text him," he said, drawing out his phone.

Sakura grinned. Maybe it wasn't wholly genuine, but she swore that by the time she met the mysterious boyfriend, it would be.

It _would_ be.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Ohh, so many people are going to _hate_ me for that one. _LALALA THE AUTHOR CAN'T HEAR YOUR DISTRESSED CRIES._

**Firerosemon**, I am sorry, I know you (among others) were hanging out for some ItaSaku.

Okay, so: if you're hideously disappointed in me and looking for an ItaSaku AU, you know, power to you, that's not going to offend me. In terms of complete AU stories, I'd recommend Fancy Footwork by silver-footsteps (6158205) or Sand Trails by Azhwi (8379994). They're both fun. (I don't know how good I'd be at writing ItaSaku anyway, honestly. I could give it a shot at some point, but I really don't know how it'd go...)

Anyway! Uh, this remains unbeta'd, but I also did a pretty lazy proof-reading job on this chapter. If you see any typos, half-finished sentences, misplaced punctuation, etc., let me know!

Look, **CherryGirl164**, MAGIC. It returns! Perhaps it just needs a couple days to recharge, once you've used it up? :P

**Guest Lily,** I expect Naruto probably put it together in a brief lull in the violence and screaming. They couldn't have been flipping out for that many hours straight, since none of them are ninja here, I guess. Enjoying the author's notes might be a little strange, but I'm glad they don't bother you at least. I know some people are like 'WHY SO MANY NOTES?' which is why I at least try to put them at the bottom. : )

A shout out to **Ms. Gentry**, who I hope is recovering well from her operation. :0

A big thank you to some other reviewers here: **Telekinesis1728**, **Sharkbait-ooohaha, Shadowlove'scookies, Analelle, **and one lonely **Guest-san** who didn't leave a name. Whoever you are, I hope you have a lovely day. : )

**Also you should definitely leave a review because they make me vomit rainbows.**


	12. Chapter 12

Twelve hours after my assignment's due and I have a whole new chapter for you. Aren't I good to you? : 3

**This installment:** In which a meeting is arranged, somebody is missing, nobody follows proper procedure and pizza is ordered.

* * *

Itachi had been very delicate about the topic of his sexuality. More than Sakura really felt it needed. She knew he was a very polite, reserved sort of person, but his guarded responses forced her to wonder if some people had reacted to him in some ways that were, well, less than supportive.

Sakura spent another half-hour wandering around campus with Itachi, dodging activists with petitions. One of the activists actually turned out to be handing out pizza coupons, which were significantly more interesting than a distressed leftist's opinion of the Israeli-Palestine conflict.

Tucking away a few coupons, Sakura decided she quite liked how free stuff just showed up on campus sometimes. Promotional events were pretty cool.

She cut a sideways glance back at Itachi, contemplating. The boyfriend's name was Hoshigaki Kisame and Sakura was meeting him in two days. She was pleased that Itachi, once having mentioned the delicate topic of his sexuality to her, was so open about his relationship. It seemed like a show of trust, since Itachi was usually so tight-lipped about his personal life.

On the other hand, she was still feeling kind of... hurt. Even though she'd been rejected in probably the nicest way possible, it still stung to be denied something she wanted so much. She did her best to disguise this from Itachi simply because there was nothing else to be done.  
Sometimes you couldn't have what you wanted.

So you had to put your big girl pants on and get over it.

Sakura took a deep breath. She smiled. "I'm kind of excited, actually," she admitted, surprised to find that it was at least partially true. He glanced at the pizza coupons as though she might have been talking about them instead of meeting his boyfriend. "For meeting Hoshigaki-san, I mean," she clarified. "It would be interesting to see what kind of person catches your attention."

Itachi's face was expressionless, but after a moment's silence he murmured, "I am beginning to regret my decision in arranging that meeting."

She grinned. It wasn't entirely forced.

* * *

From: Tenten  
Timestamp: 2:10 PM  
Message body: so did you end up asking Mystery Dude?

Sakura spent ten minutes examining her phone, wondering how to respond. Itachi was obviously a little bit sensitive about homosexuality. She wouldn't feel quite right telling another person - even one he didn't know.

To: Tenten  
Timestamp: 2:20 PM  
Message body: He said no. He's dating someone..

From: Tenten  
Timestamp: 2:24 PM  
Message body: that sucks. we should meet up and complain about it sometime.

To: Tenten  
Timestamp: 2:35 PM  
Message body: Lol! Yeah, with all of my nonexistent free time. I'll try to figure something out.

From: Tenten  
Timestamp: 10:27 PM  
Message body: i went through some very awkward conversations with lee and neji for nothing .

Of course, by ten o'clock, Sakura was so bewildered by the rest of her life that it took her a full five seconds to remember what Tenten was even texting about.

* * *

Despite her attempts to force a cheerful attitude, Sakura was well and truly prepared to return home and have a good, hard sulk. She didn't have to pretend for _herself_, after all. As nice as it was to confirm that she was going to be able to stay friends with Itachi after that tremendously embarrassing conversation, Sakura still felt like she kind of wanted to drown herself just to end the sheer mortification of the event.

"Of course," she muttered to herself on the bus, causing the person across the aisle from her to look at her warily, "the first time I ask a guy out he turns out to like other men."

She leaned heavily against the window and watched the darkening streets go by. In the end though, her sulk had to be postponed.

Sakura turned the corner into her home street to the sight of police cars.

...crap.

What were the chances, she thought, that they were there for some _other_ household?

For a second, Sakura wasn't sure if she should turn around and leave or if she should go and see what was happening. She knew she hadn't done anything illegal - well, maybe she'd not-that-legally downloaded a bit of music occasionally, but she doubted anybody was coming to arrest her for that particular offence.

And, she considered, speeding up a little, if Kakuzu wasn't home one of the others would have to talk to the police. She was pretty certain you could still be fined for swearing at police officers.

As she came closer she found the police cars empty and the door of her house standing open. She almost groaned aloud. Perfect.

Sakura stepped cautiously over the threshold where the door was swinging open. Immediately a uniformed figure appeared in the corridor. He was a big man, bearded, broad-shouldered. His sleeves were rolled up over his forearms. Somebody had bruised his jaw and ripped his shirt, and he didn't look particularly happy to be there.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" he asked shortly.

She frowned. She knew she was obligated to give the police her name and address if asked. "Haruno Sakura. I... live here?" said Sakura slowly, peering around. "What's going on?"

He relaxed into a slouch. "You live here?"

She nodded. From somewhere near by she could hear the sound of Hidan swearing, loudly and angrily. She could also hear Deidara hiss at him to _just shut up_, but it didn't help much. At least, she supposed, that meant that her housemates were probably okay.

Unless the pair of them had managed to kill one of the others, of course.

"When did you move in?"

Sakura paused warily, unsure if she should answer. She was pretty sure she didn't have to if she didn't want to. As far as she knew, several people in her house were responsible for relatively minor criminal offences - and, well, there was Deidara with his blowing up a school building, which wasn't really that minor.

Well, she'd dated the lease when she signed it, she supposed. Some information wasn't that hard to get. "A couple weeks," she said, staying still and tense in the doorway.

"So that was, what, a month after the twenty-sixth?"

Sakura thought about it. "Yes, about that. What's this about?"

He nodded as though this was more or less what he'd expected. "Interesting," he said. He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. "We're here regarding a missing person," he said and her stomach dropped. Was one of her housemates missing? But he went on before she could even begin to feel truly worried: "We have a warrant to search the premises and anybody on the premises at the time of the search."

Sakura nodded slowly. "Um, can I see a copy of the paperwork?" she asked carefully.

He nodded and produced a notice. Sakura didn't know anything at all about the search procedure, but she read through it swiftly and found that there was a lot of complicated wording about probable cause and where the police were allowed to search. It seemed like it was designed to allow police officers to search the premises for evidence that showed the commission of an indictable offence.

Maybe Sakura didn't know a lot about the law, but she sure knew what _indictable_ meant.

And someone was missing.

Oh, this couldn't possibly be good.

She gnawed her bottom lip. Her concerns could be mostly divided into three categories: firstly, that she should try her best not to incriminate her housemates since it was very likely that each of them had done something illegal recently; secondly, that her housemates might have something to do with somebody going mysteriously _missing_; and thirdly, that Sakura herself might somehow end up in legal trouble by association.

Honestly, he third point was making the most consistent contribution to her concern.

Calmly, and rather looking rather bored, the officer explained the powers granted to police by the warrant, which seemed a little frightening to Sakura. Seizing things as evidence and taking photographs, sure, but she went on to cover digging up the back and front yards as necessary, detaining anybody on the premises, searching anybody on the premises...

Sakura frowned, mind ticking over this information. Slowly, she handed the papers back to the man. "Can we find out what 'sworn information' was used to make this?" she asked.

"Usually you'd have to check the records," he drawled, "but I can tell you now: the missing person's car is outside your house, and he was living here until about two months ago when he was reported missing."

That manky old thing Deidara was driving was a missing guy's car?

Sakura rubbed the bridge of her nose. Of _course_ it was.

...her housemates' ex-housemate was missing. The one who hadn't paid his rent.

Previously living with Kakuzu.

Hadn't paid his rent.

Missing.

Sakura felt distantly that she should be more shocked and upset about the idea that her housemates might have murdered somebody, since that was clearly what this investigation was driving at.

She really wasn't sure how she felt about the idea that one of her housemates, best bet Hidan or Kakuzu, had probably murdered their last housemate. She should have been completely freaked out by the idea.

But mostly she just wanted to go to bed and contemplate how the man she had such a giant, stupid crush on had a boyfriend.

Probably a really hot boyfriend. Man, Itachi was basically the most attractive person she'd ever met in real life. He was probably way better at picking up guys than Sakura was.

"Asuma," said a woman's cool voice from somewhere deeper in the house.

Police. Right.

The tall officer - Asuma, apparently - herded Sakura into the infrequently-used living room off one side of the corridor, where she found roughly the amount of chaos she'd expected.

Hidan had a split lip and a murderous glower, but he was also sitting handcuffed on the floor. He looked at Sakura like this was somehow all her fault, an expression she ignored in favour of not caring about his temper tantrums. Sasori was sitting on their couch with Kakuzu perched on the backrest of it. There was room to sit on either side of the tiny redhead, but the tension in the room and the glazed, bored look in Sasori's eyes easily convinced Sakura not to do that.

Deidara sat on the floor, long legs sprawled out in front of him. He didn't look any the worse for wear, but he didn't look happy. His eyes flicked over Sakura and her tall capturer as she was prodded into the room.

The tension didn't drop, but nobody moved or started yelling. Good, thought Sakura. As long as nobody managed to physically attack the police - _again_, because of course Hidan had taken a swing at one of them - this could still end okay.

Since moving in, Sakura's standards for civil interaction had kind of... _dipped_.

There was another officer in the room, a woman with a straight back and a tumble of dust-brown hair. Her eyes were a strange, dark red colour and she was extremely pretty. Sakura thought that being attractive was probably an inconvenient thing for a lady police officer.

She looked over at Sakura and Asuma, but mostly her gaze was fixed on Hidan. She eyed Hidan like she knew him - like he'd had a previous life as something she'd found stuck to the sole of her shoe. Sakura couldn't help but feel a sting of indignation. Sure, Hidan was a psychopath, but that didn't mean other people could just go around _treating_ him like a psychopath.

"We have the authority to conduct a personal search of anybody on the premises while we search the place," she said with her watchful gaze still trained on Hidan.

Hidan spat at her feet. Her eyes didn't even flicker, but her hand drifted toward her taser.

"All right," Asuma said, heaving a put-upon sigh. "The rest have been done," he said to Sakura, prodding her into the middle of the room where his partner could keep an eye on her while he was busy performing the search. "Sakura-san, was it? I'll need you to turn around. Hands on your head, legs spread, fingers interlaced - I'm sure you know the drill."

Sakura felt her eyebrows rise. "I don't, actually," she said, hesitating uncertainly.

He gave her a look that said he wasn't buying it, and that he was irritated by her being obstructive. "Turn around," he said.

She did.

Everybody watched her. Even Hidan's bright, angry eyes were fixed on her. She swallowed a little nervously.

Sakura followed the officer's instructions but she really didn't like the heavy, overbearing warmth of the man when he came to stand behind her. He felt huge and close and threatening - and in her position, poorly balanced on her feet with her hands jammed behind her head, she felt very vulnerable. One of his huge hands took a grip on both a sizeable lock of her hair and her joined hands, and he squeezed until the pressure on her interlocked fingers was just this side of painful.

"Spread your legs further," he said, sounding bored, if anything.

She felt her face heat, not so much because of the situation - more just because of the _sound_ of the words. _Spread your legs further_. She felt unwilling, faintly dirty. Angry. Disgusted. Resentful. She ground her teeth. She complied.

Aside from a few television arrests, Sakura had never actually witnessed a police search and was surprised and a little - okay, a lot - indignant at how thorough they were, even over her clothes. The huge bearded officer combed one-handed through her hair, checked behind her ears, peered under her clothes, ran his hand down her sides...

Asuma's fingers ran carefully over the outside edges of her bra. Sakura jerked and yelped. "Eeek!"

He went tense at the noise, which yanked on her hair, forcing her neck into an uncomfortable position. She blinked several times and swallowed before she started breathing again. From the corner of her eye she could see his partner uncoil from where she'd been ready to intervene, her hands hovering nearer her weapon. Sakura exhaled slowly.

Calm. She resolved to stay silent and still as much as possible.

There was silence for a heartbeat. Asuma swapped hands so he could reach her other side. She _really_ didn't like him poking at the underwire of her bra through her clothing, even if it made logical sense in the context of a search.

"Is somebody recording this?" Deidara asked when the huge officer was skimming his hands over the waistband of her pants, feeling down her legs.

Sakura couldn't see the blond's face, but his voice didn't sound very impressed. "There's a lady officer right there, yeah."

"Yes," said Kakuzu.

Great, thought Sakura, that was just what she'd always wanted. Video footage of her being felt up by a police officer on Kakuzu's phone.

"The search is legal," said the lady officer, sounding unconcerned.

Her partner's hand skimmed over the insides of Sakura's thighs, and the back of his hand rubbed way too intimately against her groin.

"Legal, but not very professional, yeah," said Deidara flatly.

"Just shut up. Don't even fucking bother," hissed Hidan. Sakura was glad she couldn't see his face, because his voice was scary enough. He sounded positively unhinged. "Pigs won't give a damn."

"Mmm. I can think of somebody who will," said Kakuzu. Of all of them, he sounded calm.

"Him? He's an asshole," growled Hidan.

"He's a lawyer," drawled Deidara. "It comes with the territory."

"You're done," said Asuma, finally. He patted Sakura very gently on the head and set her free.

Sakura paused, standing there stupidly for a second. She felt like she could still feel the rough, warm impressions of his big hands on her with their unwelcome heat seeping through her clothes.

Then she moved, walking stiffly, intending to get herself as far away as possible - but Deidara caught her by the wrist as she passed. She tensed and turned wide eyes on him. After a second she relaxed.

They looked at each other for a second. Deidara's eyes were very blue, dark and warm and sympathetic.

He tugged her down to the floor next to him. Sakura let him. She felt weirdly safe tucked into the curl of his arm. It was strange that he could be so savagely violent with her other housemates - except perhaps Sasori, who he rather liked - and yet here, so close and cozy, she felt completely safe from his mercurial temper.

That was probably a mistake, she thought dubiously. But she'd take advantage of it while she could.

The officers conferred for a moment. The search itself was messy and violating but not nearly as bad as the personal search had been, in Sakura's opinion. The officers pulled out drawers and tipped them upside down, opened everything, checked under everything, and peered inside a couple of places Sakura hadn't even paid attention to.

But after all that mess, Sakura was frankly astonished at how little the police officers actually found. There was some brief commotion about evidence of blood in Hidan's room, and some of his things were seized.

He didn't seem to appreciate the police confiscating his sacrificial knife, if his bellowing of "Do you know how many fucking animals I'm going to have to kill to consecrate that after it's been in your heathen fucking hands?" was any indication.

"Relax," said the cigarette-smelling man, smacking a receipt for the knife onto Hidan's forehead. "If it's really used on animals only, you can get it back and go back to slaughtering defenceless baby lambs to your heart's content."

Apparently as long as the blood that turned up was goat blood instead of human blood, it was actually not illegal.

Sakura had not expected that.

"Er... really?" Sakura whispered to Deidara over the sound of Hidan yelling at the police. He was still handcuffed.

Deidara nodded. "If you kill an animal by cutting its throat properly it's not considered an inhumane death, yeah. And you can sacrifice animals for religious reasons. And, even if you couldn't... he does eat the goats."

Sakura scratched her head. "Huh."

Happily, they didn't take anything from Sakura's room, although they did move all her things around and shove her bed over so they could see the shape of the scorch mark that was on her floorboards.

"It's in the condition report," she said shortly, glaring when the officer with the red eyes came back to the living room to ask her questions about the marks.

The other woman raised her eyebrows, said nothing, and went back to photograph the marks. Sakura sagged into Deidara's side, and he tossed his arm back over her shoulder. She was too anxious to appreciate the feel of him radiating heat next to her for anything except the relative safety it provided.

She noticed Kakuzu giving her a long, speculative look, but she was determined to ignore it. Subsequently she missed the glance he shared with Sasori.

The officers took away a good chunk the art supplies in Deidara's room - although they looked to Sakura just like the bits and pieces he used to experiment with glazes and things. He watched them with an expression she'd never seen on his face before, with something sharp and cool flickering behind his eyes.

When the pair finally - _finally_ - left, looking weary and kind of vaguely disappointed but not surprised, the house had been turned upside down. Nothing was actually broken, but things were strewn everywhere, furniture moved, drawers pulled out and upended on floors and tables.

The door closed behind them. Everybody - even Hidan - was still for a moment, listening to the sounds of footsteps and car doors slamming.

Sakura looked around at the wreckage and wasn't thrilled.

The urge to get up and clean didn't come to her, though. Nor, apparently, to anybody else. Not even Sasori, who could be so possessive about his things it had come full circle and become funny again.

Next to her, Deidara heaved a sigh and leaned heavily against her. Where before he'd been a comforting support, now he was a dead weight sagging against her shoulder. She nudged him until he slumped to her lap, where he wriggled until he was laid out on the floor with his head on her thighs.

"Fuck," growled Hidan, slumping onto the couch next to Sasori. The redhead's eyes flicked to him, but he didn't say anything. Hidan rubbed his wrists, scowling angrily.

Everybody looked like they'd had the energy sapped out of them. Sakura contemplated cooking dinner, cleaning up, studying... the thought of that much effort made her want to groan aloud. She contemplated the coupons hiding in her wallet.

Sakura looked down at Deidara's face. "Pizza?"

"Broke," he admitted. He looked tired and - upset, she supposed. It stood to reason.

Kakuzu snorted. "When are you not?"

Sakura didn't give Kakuzu the evil eye that she wanted to. They were all tired and irritated and dreading the thought of cleaning up everything that had been left in such a giant mess. She hummed quietly, counting up how much money she could spare in her head. Not a lot, that was for sure - none of them could, except maybe Kakuzu, who wouldn't.

Since he was there anyway, she buried her fingers in Deidara's hair. She'd never really touched it on purpose before, but she was a little shocked by the incredible, ridiculous softness of it.

She probably had enough money, just. "I'll buy," she said, scratching his scalp idly. After a second she found exactly how much pressure she needed to make his eyelids flutter. He was right there and it pleased her to make him feel good, on some gut-deep level that she refused to analyse right now.

She fished her phone out of her bag and looked up the pizza place for which her coupon guaranteed her free delivery and 30% off her order.

"Free pizza?" she said, looking around the room, her fingers hovering over the touch screen of her phone. "Speak now."

Unsurprisingly, Kakuzu and Hidan jumped at the opportunity - Kakuzu because saving money on dinner was a good proposition, Hidan mostly because he liked being a pain in the butt to other people and mooching whenever possible was an A-grade way to do it. Even less surprising was the fact that somehow an argument broke out over this, because enjoying other people's suffering was a morally better motive than saving money or something. Sasori watched on, looking like he was so bored he might just slip into a coma.

"Ohh," said Deidara, who had a very indirect view of her phone's backlit screen from where his head was in her lap. "Is that the place down on Smith Street? Uh... With the stupid bright logo? I've been there, yeah. They do weird fancy stuff."

"Salami Hut," she said, eyeing her coupon.

"Salami... Hut?" he snorted. "Is that what it's called?"

"Yep," she agreed, uncertain whether she should cringe or applaud.

"They have one that's got caramelised onions and cheese and stuff. I want that one, yeah."

"Okay," she shrugged. She looked around. The place was a mess. Kakuzu and Hidan were still arguing. Or, well, Hidan was arguing - Kakuzu was slamming his face into a table, which didn't seem to affect his capacity to argue and swear. Sakura sighed.

They ended up ordering a kind of strange assortment of pizza. The thing Deidara seemed to have remembered from some two-am drunken stopover was actually a fancy modern variation that combined a weird, rustic-looking pizza base with napoli, mozzarella, blue cheese, tiny slices of flavourful chicken, caremalised onion, pear and rocket.

"Those things don't sound like they go together," Sakura commented, eyeing the entry on the menu that she could see on the screen of her phone.

"It was amazing, yeah. Almost art."

"Pizza does tend to be ephemeral and fleeting, yes," Sakura admitted, a little drily. She didn't stop her hand moving through his hair. Deidara smiled serenely.

Kakuzu, more or less as expected, chose to get the only thing on the menu with expensive seafood in it, which included big curled prawns, slices of fatty pancetta, little rings of red onion, cheeses and a heavy dose of chilli. Sakura could admit that it probably tasted really good, but so would a lot of things - a lot of _cheaper_ things.

"Really?" she muttered. His lips curved, just the tiniest bit, pulling at his scars and Sakura just sighed and told the attendant his order.

Sasori eyed the menu on her phone for a few seconds, and then asked for a pizza that involved banana slices, maple syrup, toasted walnuts and a heap of marscapone.

Sakura very neutrally reported this selection to the person on the phone, who didn't seem at all fazed by it. "Sure," he said, and she could hear him tapping on something.

Hidan had escaped from Kakuzu's punishing grip and was now making grabby hands at her phone, despite the bloody nose. "Ah, hangon," she said, "my housemate wants to tell you his - Hey!"

She swiped at Hidan, but he danced out of the way and she couldn't manage an effective lunge with Deidara sprawled across her lap like a giant housecat. He didn't seem especially inclined to go anywhere, either.

She rolled her eyes as Hidan yelled at the confused man on the other end until he'd agreed that the pizza shop could indeed make the pizza exactly how Hidan wanted it, which turned out to be with tomato, olives, anchovies, garlic, chilli and capers. And nothing else. Sakura wrinkled her nose at the idea and wondered if that wasn't transgressing some kind of law about how much salt could be in any given meal.

"What d'you want?" he asked Sakura, still holding the phone tightly. He leaned in much too close, and Sakura realised that what she'd thought was a nose bleed was actually coming from his mouth where he'd bitten into his lip. It was bleeding pretty freely.

"Margherita," she said, peering closer at his mouth. Her hand stilled in Deidara's hair.

"Isn't that just tomato and cheese?" he said, looking at her blankly.

"There's other stuff," she said defensively.

He rolled his eyes and repeated her order back to the attendant before rattling off their address and hanging up. "That's boring," he informed her.

Sakura took her phone back, wiped an errant fleck of blood from its screen and tucked it away.

Assured now that her offer of free pizza had granted her a captive audience - at least until it arrived - she fixed the men with a hard look. "You know what's _not_ boring?" she asked in a flat voice.

Deidara made a noise and rolled his head in her lap to look at her. "What?"

"What's _not_ boring would be, I think, the explanation for what the police were doing here in the first place."

Deidara's huge blue eyes blinked up at her and she flicked him in the forehead, hard. He didn't even flinch. "What's this about you driving around in a missing guy's car? What the hell happened to your last housemate?"

"Ah..." said Dediara.

"Oh, for fuck's sakes..." Hidan bitched, turning away to run his hands through his hair. He dragged a layer of blood through it and Sakura resisted the urge to scream at him to _put some goddamned pressure on that bleeding._

Sasori got up and wandered into the kitchen to make more coffee. (Deidara's theory, revealed privately to Sakura, was that he needed a constant supply so he didn't pass out and finally catch up on the many years of sleep he'd missed, rendering him comatose for weeks.)

"Yes," said a new voice, loud and sudden. "What were the police doing here?"

The whole group flinched at the new voice. Nobody had heard his entry. Sakura craned her neck toward the doorway.

"...Pein-san?"

* * *

**Author's Notes: **While the police stuff is based in fact, I have taken some liberties. I'm not sure if this goes without saying, but this is fiction, it isn't a reference. : )

This has taken a bit of time because I had an assignment due twelve hours ago, following which I wrote you this chapter. It took a while, but it's over now. So this chapter's a little rushed and probably a bit schizophrenic-feeling given the sudden changes in tone etc., but I wanted to post one so people had a thing to read.

**About genre: **This story's a humour story, mostly, and not actually a 'til-death-do-us-part romance sort of thing. I'm not saying there's not going to be any pairings or dating or unexpected making out or whatever, but it's not primarily a romance story.

**Responses to reviewers: **Awww, **Firerosemon**, don't be sad. Although it's true, I totally led you on what with fifty thousand words of Sakura having a crush on Itachi in there. It's unfortunate that you're disappointed, although I can assure you you're not alone in that. Kakuzu is heaps of fun to write so he'll probably be around though.; )

**naremon**, I hope your heart recovers from this unexpected shattering!

I love Kakashi, **ZapZapYotsuba**, so he's sure to show up again sooner or later. :)

**La Nuit Noire **and **Of Healing Love** (who makes verrrry interesting suggestions), it probably does figure into his relationship with his family, but I think there are also other factors.

LOOK, **Analelle**! I SET A SCHEDULE. Kisame HAS to show up now.

And a huge thank you to **Momo**, H**ai-Akatsuki**, **Toreh**, **wickedgrl123**, **Riyokia**, **Scarletknight17**, **AkatsukiRaven92**, **mun3litKnight**, **XxChemicalKatxX**, **lowgirl**, **GrrFaced** and one solitary **Guest-san. **Oh, Guest-san. How I wonder what to call you. : P

**Reviews**: I would like to say 'you know you want to' but actually I think it would be more valid to say 'you know _I _want you to'. : P

(Now go write me a review so I can horde them and cackle quietly to myself in the dark.)


	13. Chapter 13

In which Sakura is confused, pornography is discussed and Kisame is huge.

* * *

It was Pein. Sakura wasn't sure if he'd gotten in because the police had left the door open or because he had a key. He looked unimpressed.

Which was frankly ridiculous, because he had no right.

_Sakura_ was unimpressed.

"Okay," said Sakura flatly, turning toward him. "Now I want to know what _you're_ doing here."

Pein 's strange ringed eyes flicked to her and then back to the other men. He didn't look or seem any more intimidating than he had at the cafe, but the fact that Hidan and Kakuzu both stilled and turned toward his voice hinted at a certain level of authority.

"Sakura-san. You live here too, now, don't you?" He looked contemplative for a second and his brow furrowed. "I suppose it can't be helped," he said finally.

That didn't answer her question - any of them! Sakura ground her teeth. "_What_ can't be helped?" she growled. She could feel her muscles tensing up under her skin. "What were the police doing here? What do you all have to do with a missing person?" her voice got louder and louder at each successive question.

Pein held up one hand for silence. She closed her mouth with a click, grudgingly obedient. "I understand your concerns - however, everybody should be gathered for this. Although there's the risk of surveillance, apparently," he said, sweeping his eyes over the mess the officers had made of the room. He pulled out his phone and fired off a quick text.

"We convene at TRIVIA in an hour," he said flatly. "Sakura-san, you can come with me now."

It was decidedly _not_ a request.

Sakura was not at all certain she wanted to follow him. She hesitated. Around her, all of the other men went tense - except Hidan, who looked at her with a lazy smile.

"So that's how it is?" she said, glancing around at them.

It probably wasn't a good time to dig her heels in. They were all bigger and more dangerous than she was, and she suspected that Pein's word was motivation enough for them to hurt her.

That... stung, a little.

She'd thought Deidara, at least...

"It's nothing personal," said Sasori as he ghosted back into the room, clutching a giant cup of foul instant coffee. "It would be counterproductive to take offence."

"That's a matter of perspective," she said, giving him a dark look.

He was unmoved.

"Fine." She picked up her bag and slung it over one shoulder. "Let's go," she said to Pein.

The men all relaxed, just a little. Sakura followed Pein toward the door.

"You!" she added suddenly, spinning on her heel just as she was about to leave. Her finger was levelled directly at Deidara. "Make sure you save me some pizza."

Kakuzu made a vaguely derisive sound, but Deidara shot her an uncertain smile and saluted with one hand.

Nothing personal.

Sure.

"Come." Then Pein grabbed her wrist and drew her out the door.

* * *

When the doors of Pein's car closed they were alone together.

Sakura felt very uncertain. She found herself fiddling with the hem of her shirt, quick and nervous.

For a few long moments everything was absolutely silent. Pein pulled away from the curb, and Sakura felt like she could hear the rumble and tick of every bit of machinery inside the car.

"The police search was about a missing person?" Pein prompted finally. His voice drowned out the maddening tick of his indicator as they waited for a set of lights. He was at least more competent as a driver than Deidara, which said something for his life expectancy.

"Yes." Sakura nodded. She felt absurdly grateful for even this conversation. "Their last house mate?"

He nodded. "Gekkou-san, yes. Hmm." He was quiet for a few long moments. "I'm not sure that the search had anything to do with Gekkou-san, to be honest, but it is a good front for them."

"What else could it be for?" Sakura asked, uncertain as to whether or not she actually wanted to know.

Pein was silent for so long she thought he might have just been ignoring her. "You were aware last week that Hidan had been injured," he said finally.

She made a noise of assent.

"His injury was the result of an argument between several ...factions. This has had the unwanted side effect of increased police attention focused on certain activities. It wouldn't be such an issue, but there's the election coming up," he added thoughtfully.

"So..." said Sakura, drawing the word out long and feeling like she was very slow for only just catching on, "you're all in a gang."

He didn't answer.

"I see," she said anyway, contemplating.

She _did_ see, and Sakura wasn't entirely certain that she liked the view. Hidan's injury. The mysterious deliveries to TRIVIA. Zetsu's cryptic comments about 'the work they do'. She rubbed her forehead.

Her housemates were all part of some terrible, secret, underground criminal empire.

God.

Her eyes moved from the road to Pein and back again, almost non-stop. She felt kind of queasy.

They pulled up a good kilometre from TRIVIA, and Pein guided Sakura to a nondescript door with "FIRE HYDRANT AND HOSE REEL" written on it in peeling letters.

Its hinges protested. Inside, steps led down. It was very dark.

Pein held the door open for her and made her go first. She supposed that was fair. A smart person _would_ run away.

When they reached flat ground, there were breaks in the walls - pathways that led elsewhere. But there was still no light, and Sakura couldn't tell where they were going at all. Pein seemed to have some way of keeping track.

"What are you going to do if there's actually a fire?" she asked curiously, feeling out the wall to one side with her hand. There was, after all, no fire hydrant or hose reel behind that door.

"Feign surprise," he responded. "Turn here," he added, pressing down on her shoulder with one warm hand.

Sakura did her best not to flinch at the sudden contact and turned obediently. "They have officials who have to test those things," she pointed out. "There'd be an investigation."

"No," said a smug, confident voice from ahead, bleeding out of the darkness, "there wouldn't."

She knew that voice.

Her skin shivered.

Sakura swallowed.

"I thought I might be seeing you here before long," Madara mused. There was no light, but Sakura swore she could see the red glint in his eyes, glittering out at her.

Did he just make a habit of lurking around after dark, waiting to step out of the shadows and intimidate random people? Was that, like, some kind of hobby for him?

"Uchiha-san," she said in a voice that sounded detached and calm. Good. She didn't feel very _connected_ to that voice, but she was glad it was so steady.

A door swung open to reveal a paler patch of shadow in the darkness underground, and Pein disappeared inside.

"Call me Madara," murmured that too-familiar voice. It was a lot closer now, and Sakura still couldn't see - and then his hand was on the back of her neck, strong fingers tense under her short hair.

The noise she made could, loosely, have been considered assent.

Mostly it was just a stupid whimper.

Sakura licked her lips.

Madara propelled her forward. The door swung shut behind them.

The room was tiny and very cold, but after a few seconds in the dark there was a creak and a thud. Then they swiftly climbed a ladder and...

...emerged into the store room of TRIVIA.

Because there was a trap door in the floor. Apparently.

Huh.

How had she not noticed that before?

"It's usually covered," said Pein placidly, apparently picking up on her unspoken question.

There was a light glowing from somewhere in the cafe proper and Sakura could hear the sounds of somebody banging around. The air smelled like coffee grounds and buttery pastry.

They headed out to the tiny kitchen area and Sakura was surprised to find that it was Konan messing around with croissants and sipping on a short black. Leaning on the counter, smiling rakishly at her, was Jiraiya, whose unruly tumble of hair was tossed over one shoulder carelessly.

"Sakura-chan!" he said, much too familiarly, with his eyes crinkling into a pleased smile when he looked her over. "Heard you had a bit of a run in with the police this afternoon. No worse for wear, ne?"

"That remains to be seen," said Pein.

The statement had the effect of making Sakura feel like she'd been dunked in ice water. No matter how sucky the evening had already been, Pein's empty, factual voice reminded her that any situation, no matter how bad, could get worse.

Jiraiya handwaved this ominous comment with the same laissez-faire attitude he displayed about pretty much everything and swiftly pulled Sakura away to discuss - at length - how awesome Icha Icha Tactics was.

Konan glanced over at this discussion and then made her way back toward Pein as though she was quite determined to pretend she didn't know either of them.

That was all right. Icha Icha Tactics was awesome. Even if Konan didn't know it. Or Pein. Or, actually, given the supercilious gleam in his eye, Madara.

Whatever. Clearly they hadn't read it.

It was true that Jiraiya was absolutely a complete pervert. Maybe the books he wrote weren't technically pornography, but only because he cleverly (and thinly) disguised them with plot.

"Well, of course," he said when she pointed this out. He scratched his chin for a moment. "I'm a romantic at heart," he confided with a smile that was pretty much the opposite of romantic, "so it needs a good story! Mystery and sin and salvation and high drama and - and -" he seemed lost for a moment.

"Boobs?" Sakura prompted.

"_Boobs_," he agreed dreamily.

There were a lot of boobs in Icha Icha Tactics.

"But also you can't legally sell it if it's just porn," he said prosaically, and shrugged. "Which would be fine, but then you have to find a publisher who'll have it made anyway or take the risk of vanity publishing it, which is a big hit to a reputation in the industry..." he shrugged. "For those reasons, among others, even if you export it to places with different laws, there's not much legal profit in home-grown pornography."

"...Huh," said Sakura.

"Although that's just literature and magazines, real old-school stuff. Modern technology is very different."

"You sound very knowledgeable," Sakura said slowly.

Jiraiya's grin was a terrible thing to behold. "_Very_ knowledgeable," he promised.

"A... aah," Sakura agreed, feeling abruptly a little out of her depth.

Whatever else Jiraiya was, he was at the very least distracting: while Sakura was excitedly discussing his novel and floundering about trying not to feel embarrassed when he spoke of actual pornography, she wasn't thinking about how she'd been whisked away from her home to some kind of gang-wide meeting via a secret underground passageway.

Others arrived in a steady trickle, some from the back and some from underground. Sasori appeared, somehow, without noise or notice, perched on a crate in one shadowed corner. Sakura only actually noticed him when Pein broke away from his chatter with Konan to make the redhead a coffee.

Deidara and Hidan came up from the store room, shoving and bitching at each other, with Kakuzu trailing behind in a heavy, long-suffering silence.

Tobi arrived via the rolling metal front door, which scraped open with a hideous noise. "I'm here for the super secret hush-hush meeting right out in the open~" he told them all, beaming.  
Deidara hauled him inside by his hair to a chorus of sad little whines and yelps, and Madara laughed his deep, hearty laugh. The door was shoved back down after him.

He pouted at Deidara as though he'd ruined Christmas. Then, a second later, he clapped his hands. "I know what will make Deidara-sempai happy!" he declared and then rummaged around in his bag before producing a bouquet of bright orange toffee apples.

Sakura felt sure that the overall size and shape of the apples meant they should not have fit inside his bag, but when she found him thrusting one of the sticks at her she took it graciously. "Did you make it, Tobi-san?" she asked, examining the apple.

He nodded cheerfully.

It tasted very sweet and cracked satisfyingly when she nibbled at it. She noticed she was the only one who even tried hers, which made her wonder if there was something wrong with them - but it tasted fine, and she liked candy.

Itachi arrived not long after, picking his way delicately through the chaos and leading literally the hugest person Sakura had ever seen.

He was huge. Taller than Kakuzu. It didn't really help that he was huge across the chest and shoulders. There was a distinct air of _rippling_ to him.

Also he was _blue_, but that actually took a backseat to the sheer physical presence of him for about thirty seconds.

Politely, Itachi said, "Sakura, this is Hoshigaki Kisame."

That made her look back. She had been expecting Itachi's boyfriend to be, well, _gay_-looking, to seem effete and trendy with a side order of bitch and gossip.

She hadn't expected somebody quite so... masculine.

"It's good to meet you," she said politely, more or less on rote, because her brain was still trying to fire properly.

Sakura had the unsettling impression that the man's quads were bigger than her _rib cage_.

It occurred to Sakura that Itachi was, being gay, probably just as attracted to masculinity as any straight girl might be.

Looking at Hoshigaki, she concluded that Itachi was really, _really_ gay.

Kisame smiled.

"...Your teeth are filed to points," she said dazedly. She swallowed.

"Bet you're regretting asking my boyfriend out right now," he said, grinning wider.

"Um," she said.

"Kisame," Itachi murmured softly. If she hadn't been paying such obsessively close attention to him for weeks, Sakura would never have heard the sliver of reproach in his tone.

Hoshigaki heard it too, because he reached out - and _down_ - and patted Sakura gently on the head. "I empathise with your motives and I forgive you. This time," he added, eyeing her.

He had a very long way down to peer. His eyes were strangely pale, but Sakura supposed that once you got past the blue skin and the sharp teeth, he was actually not a bad-looking sort of man.

"I... didn't know?" she said hesitantly.

Beside her, Jiraiya snorted. "You mean you _actually _asked him out?" he said, and began laughing loudly.

"Are you frightening Sakura-san?" Deidara kind of just appeared, glowering at Hoshigaki over Sakura's shoulder. Either he was feeling very brave, or very reckless.

Jiraiya was not recovered. "She - " he gasped. "She asked Uchiha out!" And then he dissolved back into hysterics.

"What?" Deidara's voice indicated that he did not, in fact, find this that hilarious.

"Why is that funny?" Tobi interrupted from right next to Sakura, a position she had definitely not seen him approach, "Itachi-nii is very handsome, isn't he?"

"No!" Said Deidara, smacking him over the head.

"Yes," said Hoshigaki. He looked to where Itachi had been, only to find that he had left while everybody was distracted and was now across the other side of the room with Sasori.

Sakura just covered her face with her hands. "Please stop laughing," she said to Jiraiya, who ignored her. His laughter trailed off into occasional sniggers eventually anyway. "I really didn't know he was dating Hoshigaki-san."

"That's not really what they're laughing about," said Kisame. There was a tiny smile tugging at his mouth. She was glad he'd stopped baring those giant teeth. "People usually think it's obvious Itachi's not into girls."

"Oh," said Sakura, peering out from between her fingers. He was so _big_. "I..."

"Yeah," he said. "Obviously."

She slid her fingers back together. If she ignored the chatter and laughter, she could just pretend she was in her bedroom with the lights out, right?

Except that made her think of her bedroom.

Her bedroom that was a giant mess because, oh, right, the police raided her house.

She dropped her hands.

Only to find herself blinking into Tobi's face, which was very close.

"Sakura-chan, are you okay?"

"...are you really part of an underground criminal empire or something?" she asked plaintively.

It was Tobi. He was so... so...

_Tobi_.

"Yep," he said cheerfully.

"'Empire' might be a strong word for it," mused Jiraiya, leaning back into his seat.

"Oh?" she prompted.

"It's mostly a minor smuggling operation, really," he shrugged. "But once you operate outside the law, competition can become more problematic than you'd think."

"Gang fights," Sakura summarised.

Jiraiya nodded seriously. "Territory disputes and supply line sabotage, mostly. There wasn't any real base of operations for porn when we started bringing it in - not enough profit initially, and you know sourcing it was a giant organisational headache. But once we'd gotten started, our infrastructure was so good it seemed a shame not to broaden our horizons a little..."

"Drugs," Sakura guessed dully. She really didn't like the idea of smuggling drugs, and certainly not of _dealing_ drugs.

Jiraiya shrugged. "I wouldn't know. I'm not really involved with that part of the operation," he looked pointedly at Deidara.

"Drugs? Eh, sometimes, but not as often as you'd think," Deidara said, hopping up to perch on the table and almost knocking over Sakura's coffee in the process. "People - and police - get weird about recreational drugs, yeah?"

Sakura nodded slowly.

"There's a lot of other stuff people aren't paying nearly as much attention to."

"Like what?" she challenged.

"Computer games!" Tobi said, beaming.

"...computer games," Sakura echoed. That was... less exciting than she'd thought.

"Banned books and films," Deidara added. "You know, seditious material, stuff that's instructive about drugs or suicide, yeah."

"The Anarchist's Cookbook is Tobi's favourite," he informed her solemnly.

Right.

"Those aren't the things that really cause problems," Kisame clarified, looking curiously between Tobi and Deidara. "There's more competition over the weapons, tobacco, cadavers, alcohol and chemicals."

"Hang on," said Sakura, "cigarettes and alcohol are legal, aren't they?"

"But they're taxed heavily to discourage people from using them," explained Jiraiya. "You can undercut the whole market by smuggling them over the borders and avoiding the taxes. It can be a very profitable business."

"They're late," declared Madara, causing everybody to fall abruptly silent.

As far as Sakura could tell, Pein was nominally in charge. But Madara...

He spoke, and everybody listened.

She didn't know quite what to make of that.

Pein looked around. "I can fill them in when they arrive," he conceded. "Is everybody more or less familiar with Sakura-san?"

Eyes all settled on her and Sakura swallowed.

"She will be working with us from now on," Pein went on.

"I will?" Sakura asked. Then she scowled. "You can't just - mmmmphhh!" She broke off as Deidara slapped his hand over her mouth.

"She says she's thrilled, yeah," he said, beaming at Pein, whose expression never changed. "Do you really want to talk about the alternative?" he hissed into Sakura's ear.

She shifted her eyes to the blond hair tickling the side of her face.

She probably didn't want to discuss any alternatives, no. Did that mean this was a do-or-die sort of situation? She wasn't sure she wanted to belong to a violent gang.

She'd have to wait and see.

Sakura exhaled into his hand. He twitched, but didn't release her.

"She is adept at basic first aid, so on-job injuries should be assessed by her before you seek outside medical help, except in circumstances where you really can't avoid presenting at a hospital."

Sakura stiffened. Basic first aid was _not_ a replacement for competent medical treatment!

"Shh," said Deidara warningly.

She made a grunting noise of assent and he slowly took his hand away from her mouth.

"Now," Pein went on. "Itachi-kun, the search?"

Itachi stood up from where he was seated in the shadowy corner next to Sasori. "Tonight there was a police search on the share house," he said. Only Tobi seemed remotely surprised by this, and he responded by dramatically covering his mouth with one hand and whimpering. Everybody ignored him. "Ostensibly the search was prompted by Gekkou-san's car, which remains in use by members of that household."

Everybody looked at Deidara.

He shrugged. "It's not my fault he left his car, yeah," he said, looking vastly unconcerned.

Pein's blank expression became vastly blanker.

"Besides," Deidara added, scrunching up his nose. "I thought he was missing? Did they decide he was dead after all?"

"Hang on, so," said Sakura. It was simultaneously intimidating and gratifying to receive their combined attention when she spoke. "To clarify: nobody actually _killed_ this guy?"

Sasori lifted one shoulder in a kind of half-arsed shrug. "Until they find a body, he's missing, not dead."

Sakura did notice that he had not actually answered her question. Her eyes drifted from face to face. They looked weary and irritated, some of them curious, but none especially guilty - but then, all of them were hard to read when they wanted to be. Finally she looked at Hidan.

He would tell her the truth, she knew. Hidan was a savage and a cheater and a crazy person, but he didn't lie.

He met her gaze and raised his eyebrows.

There was a second's silence, and then Sakura looked away. She didn't ask. She might have been almost unbearably curious, but for her own sake... well, she probably didn't really want to know.

"Thought so." Hidan snorted back a laugh. Kakuzu smacked him over the head and deftly dodged the returned swipe. "Shut up," he growled. "She's a smart woman."

"Itachi-san," Pein prompted.

"I can confirm that the point of the search was not the missing person or the car; these were an excuse to have access to the premises. As you know, any evidence found in the course of a police search that indicates a crime is permissable."

"How does he know that?" Sakura mumbled to Deidara.

Evidently she was not as quiet as she'd thought because Kakuzu grunted. "Itachi-san's family work almost universally in the criminal justice system: policy-makers, lawyers, police officers, judges and so on," he explained.

"Itachi collects gossip," clarified Deidara cheerfully.

Sakura kind of thought that 'collecting gossip' sounded like a task Deidara would be better qualified for, since as far as she could tell Itachi - beautiful, competent, polite Itachi - had all the actual social skills of a badly concussed _rock_.

"Hypothetically," she said, "what might they _actually_ have been searching for?"

Nobody bothered to answer her this time.

"Give me the receipts for what was confiscated," Pein demanded, holding his hand out. Quickly a pile of little papers were set in his hand. They were basically glorified ticket stubs: they entitled the bearer to receive the confiscated item listed from the police at some nebulous future date, provided it wasn't needed for evidence.

Pein examined the papers, counting and cataloguing what had or hadn't been taken. Finally he nodded. "The two we're missing can add their reports to this when they arrive," he decided. "Hidan, will they find any human blood on the confiscated weapon?"

"_Sacrificial knife_," he corrected. "And, yeah, they'll find _my_ blood."

"I don't think anybody'd lose sleep over that," said Kisame in a low voice. Sakura glanced at him, then at Hidan. He was probably right.

There was a little more back and forth following that: discussions about supply routes and where their routines could be changed up to make them less predictable. A couple of really dubious-sounding assignments were dished out and Itachi reported some information that Sakura felt sure ought not to be available to the general public.

"Was there anything else?" Pein asked, glancing around.

"How do you know I'm not going to run and tell the police about all of this?" Sakura asked.

Konan stepped forward. "Are you going to run and tell the police about all of this?" she asked.

"Of course not," Sakura said, and realised with a flash of dread that she was being honest. She really wouldn't turn them in - because their victims were nameless and faceless and she knew these people.

Konan gave her a faint smile, as if to say 'See?'

They split up then - Madara had a show to get to, where presumably he would spend a really unnecessary amount of time pulling small, brightly-coloured birds out of strange places. Sakura really didn't have much idea what a stage magician did.

His parting comment that he had a busy schedule of sawing young women in half didn't make her feel all that secure, though.

All this left Sakura feeling horribly drained. When Pein eventually dropped her back at her home she was just reminded that there was an enormous mess to clean up.

"Maybe it can wait until tomorrow," she suggested, looking around at the chaos.

Deidara nudged her shoulder with his. "This can _definitely_ wait until tomorrow. Or maybe the next day," he said cheerfully. "Come on, I saved your pizza, yeah," he added.

* * *

To: PIG  
Timestamp: 11:45 PM  
Message body: there is no facet of life that cannot be improved with pizza.

From: PIG  
Timestamp: 11:47 PM  
Message body: You and your freak metabolism. I hope it goes to your thighs.

* * *

**.**

**Author's Note: **roughly the only thing I want to say about this chapter is _thank god that's over_. This story was meant to be for fun, ugh, what happened?

Oh yeah also there's a slightly porny, c_ompletely not-a-part-of-this-story_ omake. It's full of swearing and making out and bad decisions all round. You can skip it if you like! It's not relevant to the story.

Although admittedly it may well be better written than this chapter. It's been that kind of week.

.

Soo...

Still with me? ONWARD, THEN.

* * *

**Extra:**

"Let me go," Sakura growled.

Hidan crowded her much too close. "Make me," he said with a grin.

She hit him. It wasn't a nice ladylike slap, either; she knew how to put her shoulder behind the blow.

Hidan's head snapped to one side. He made a soft grunt of pain. His shoulders moved when he exhaled a single, shaking breath. When he turned his face back toward her his pupils were blown wide.

Sakura met his eyes and a flush of warmth ran down her spine. She looked from her hand to his face and back for a heartbeat. "You ...liked that," she said in wonderment.

For once in his life Hidan didn't say anything. There was a fine tremor in his hands. He licked his bottom lip.

Sakura reached up, giving him every opportunity to stop her, and twined her fingers into his hair. She twisted and yanked, hauling him down. His mouth smacked into hers.

She licked him, lips wet and silky and warm. He let her trace the insides of his lips. He let her rub her tongue against his, slick and rough and unbearably sensual. She could feel the next shaking breath he took. His hands slid from the wall beside her head, helplessly drawn, skimming over her tense shoulders, down her ribs, over her hips. His hands were warm and left her skin hot and shivery in their wake.

Sakura grunted and pulled him closer. She released one hand from his hair so she could grab a fistful of his shirt and pull him against her. He went willingly. She could feel every solid inch of him pressing up against her. She liked it.

One-handed, she yanked hard on his hair. She sank her teeth into his bottom lip without bothering to be gentle. She felt him jerk. He made a noise, a sharp begging sound in his throat.

Sakura let him go.

Hidan's eyes were unfocused. His hair was messed up and his face was flushed, high and fierce across his cheekbones. "Fuck," he mumbled between heavy breaths, looking at her mouth.

Sakura licked her own lips - she could _taste_ him, oh god - and exhaled slowly. She could feel her own heart thundering along in her chest. Her every nerve was lit up on full alert. She felt like the want in her was almost too big to fit inside her skin.

She made a short agreeing noise.

"Yeah," she said, breathing hard.

"Come on," he said, and his voice had dropped a little lower, stirring up things low in her belly. His mouth, wet with saliva - _her_ saliva - rubbed against her neck. She was sensitive there, and he raised a trail of shivers with his warm breath.

Sakura breathed and tried to think calmly. Because she didn't really like Hidan. She snorted softly and raised one hand to push him away from her so she could tell him to piss off.

"Don't," he said, making her hesitate. "Come on, Sakura. You fucking want it. What have you got to lose?"

She could see it in her mind's eye, suddenly and abruptly, a lightning strike of inspiration courtesy of her libido: her riding him, tangled on the floor with her hands fisted in his hair. She thought of shining sweat and tangled hair and mumbled curses, of hard muscles shifting and contracting underneath her while he rocked his hips helplessly, grunting and whining under her, hands clawing at her skin.

What did she have to lose? Nothing, really.

The hand that was meant to be pushing him away somehow ended up hauling him closer. She reached up and yanked on his hair, watched his breath catch and felt his body shudder. She bared her teeth at him.

"You're right," she said, watching him. He responded so beautifully under her hands. She wanted to pull him apart. She wanted to have him stupid and desperate and aching beneath her nails and her teeth. She wanted gasps and half-articulated moans.

"What are you waiting for?" she asked, surprised at how hard her voice was. "Do you want to fuck or not?"

The look on his face was priceless. And hot.

"_Fuck yes_," he growled.

* * *

**That's a wrap. **I don't have the energy to respond to some of the reviews here just now. I think I PMed various people who were logged in and asked questions? But I did want to thank **Trademark** for giving me a name to address him/her/xir by. Cheers!

**Edit: **It's probably high time I changed the rating for this fic from T to M. That's annoying, but I suppose it has to be done, what with this omake and the goat scene and the stabbings and so forth...

As always, thank you to anybody who took the time to review. It's a hard job, but somebody's gotta do it. ; )


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